RAY'S   DAUGHTER 


,; 


RAY'S   DAUGHTER 


A       Story       of      Manila 


BY 


GENERAL  CHARLES  KING,  U.S.V. 

AUTHOR  OF  "  RAY'S  RECRUIT," 
"MARION'S  FAITH,"  "THE 
COLONEL'S  DAUGHTER,"  ETC. 


PHILADELPHIA    AND     LONDON 
J.    B.     LIPPINCOTT       COMPANY 

1901 


COPYRIGHT,   1900 
BY 


*  *  <  *  •*.*"***««       •    •* 

*  *'  *  *"  •*•*    ' 1  •  • »  J  ,*  •  *  • 


Electrotyped  and  Printed  by 
J.  B.  Lippincott  Company,  Philadelphia,  U.S.A. 


RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

* 

CHAPTER   I. 

THE  long  June  day  was  drawing  to  its  close. 
Hot  and  strong  the  slanting  sunbeams  beat  upon 
the  grimy  roofs  of  the  train  and  threw  distorted 
shadows  over  the  sand  and  sage-brush  that  stretched 
to  the  far  horizon.  Dense  and  choking,  from  be 
neath  the  whirring  wheels  the  dust-clouds  rose  in 
tawny  billows  that  enveloped  the  rearmost  coaches 
and,  mingling  with  the  black  smoke  of  the  "  double- 
header"  engines,  rolled  away  in  the  dreary  wake. 
East  and  west,  north  and  south,  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach,  hemmed  by  low,  dun-colored  ridges 
or  sharply  outlined  crests  of  remote  mountain 
range,  in  lifeless  desolation  the  landscape  lay 
outspread  to  the  view.  Southward,  streaked  with 
white  fringe  of  alkali,  the  flat  monotone  of  sand 
and  ashes  blended  with  the  flatter,  flawless  surface 
of  a  wide-spreading,  ash-colored  inland  lake,  its 
shores  dotted  at  intervals  with  the  bleaching  bones 
of  cattle  and  ridged  with  ancient  wagon-tracks 

5 

M30800 


(>  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

unwashed  by  not  so  much  as  a  single  drop  from 
the  cloudless  heavens  since  their  first  impress  on 
the  sinking  soil.     Here  and  there  along  the  right 
of  way — a  right  no  human  being  would  care  to 
dispute  were  the  way  ten  times  its  width— some 
drowsing  lizards,  sprawling  in  the  sunshine  along 
the  ties,   roused  at  the  sound   and  tremor  of  the 
coming  train  to  squirm  off  into  the  sage-brush, 
but  no  sign  of  animation  had  been  seen  since  the 
crossing  of  the  big  divide  near  Promontory.     The 
long,  winding  train,  made  up  of  mail-,    express-, 
baggage-,  emigrant-,  and  smoking-cars,  "tourists' 
coaches,"  and  huge  sleepers  at   the  rear,  with  a 
"diner"  midway  in    the   chain,  was   packed  with 
gasping    humanity    westward   bound    for   the   far 
Pacific—the   long,    long,   tortuous    climb    to   the 
snow-capped    Sierras    ahead,    the    parched     and 
baking  valley  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake  long,  dreary 
miles  behind.     It  was   early  June  of  the  year  '98, 
and  the  war  with  Spain  was  on. 

There  had  been  some  delay  at  Ogden.  The 
trains  from  the  East  over  the  Union  Pacific  and 
the  Denver  and  Rio  Grande  came  in  crowded,  and 
the  resources  of  the  Southern  Pacific  were  sud 
denly  taxed  beyond  the  expectation  of  its  officials. 
Troops  had  been  whirling  westward  throughout 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  7 

the  week,  absorbing  much  of  the  rolling  stock, 
and  the  empty  cars  were  being  rushed  east  again 
from  Oakland  pier,  but  the  nearest  were  still 
some  hundreds  of  miles  from  this  point  of  transfer 
when  a  carload  of  recruits  was  dumped  upon  the 
broad  platform,  and  the  superintendent  scratched 
his  head,  and  screwed  up  the  corner  of  his  mouth, 
and  asked  an  assistant  how  in  a  hotter  place  than 
even  Salt  Lake  Valley  the  road  could  expect  him 
to  forward  troops  without  delay  "when  the  road 
took  away  the  last  car  in  the  yard  getting  those 
Iowa  boys  out." 

"There  ain't  nuthin'  left  'cept  that  old  tourist 
that's  been  rustin'  and  kiln-dryin'  up  'longside  the 
shops  since  last  winter,"  said  the  junior  helplessly. 
"  Shall  we  have  her  out  ?" 

"  Guess  you'll  have  to,"  was  the  answer.  "  It's 
that  or  nothin' ;"  and  the  boss  turned  on  his  heel 
and  slammed  the  office  door  behind  him.  "  Ten 
to  one,"  said  he,  "  there'll  be  a  kick  comin'  when 
the  boys  see  what  they've  got  to  ride  in,  an'  I'll 
let  Jim  take  the  kick." 

The  kick  had  come  as  predicted,  but  availed 
nothing.  A  score  of  lusty  young  patriots  were 
the  performers,  but,  being  destined  for  service  in 
the  regulars,  they  had  neither  Senator  nor  State 


8  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

official  to  "wire"  to  in  wrathful  protest,  as  was 
usual  on  such  occasions.  The  superintendent 
would  have  thought  twice  before  ever  suggesting 
that  car  as  a  component  part  of  the  train  bearing 
the  volunteers  from  Nebraska,  Colorado,  or  Iowa 
so  recently  shipped  over  the  road.  "  They  could 
have  made  it  hot  for  the  management,"  said  he. 
But  these  fellows,  these  waifs,  were  from  no 
State  or  place  in  particular.  They  hadn't  even 
an  officer  with  them,  but  were  hurrying  on  to 
their  destination  under  command  of  a  veteran 
gunner,  "  lanced"  for  the  purpose  at  the  recruiting 
station.  He  had  done  his  best  for  his  men.  Rue 
fully  they  looked  through  the  dust-covered  in 
terior  and  inspected  the  muddy  trucks  and  brake- 
gear.  "  She  wheezes  like  she  had  bronchitis," 
said  the  corporal,  "  and  the  inside's  a  cross  be 
tween  a  hen-coop  and  coal-bin.  You  ain't  going 
to  run  that  old  rookery  for  a  car,  are  you  ?" 

"  Best  we've  got,"  was  the  curt  reply.  Yet  the 
yardman  shook  his  head  as  he  heard  the  squeal 
of  the  rusty  journals,  and  ordered  his  men  to 
pack  in  fresh  waste  and  "  touch  'em  up  some 
how."  Any  man  who  had  spent  a  week  about  a 
railway  could  have  prophesied  "  hot  boxes"  before 
that  coach  had  run  much  more  than  its  own 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  9 

length,  but  it  wouldn't  do  for  an  employee  to  say 
so.  The  corporal  looked  appealingly  at  his  fel 
low-passengers  of  the  Rio  Grande  train.  There 
were  dozens  of  them  stretching  their  legs  and 
strolling  about  the  platform,  after  getting  their 
hand-luggage  transferred  and  seats  secured,  but 
there  was  no  one  in  position  or  authority  to  in 
terpose.  Some  seemed  to  feel  no  interest. 

"  Get  your  rations  and  plunder  aboard,"  he  or 
dered,  turning  suddenly  to  his  party,  and,  loading 
up  with  blankets,  overcoats,  haversacks,  and  can 
teens,  the  recruits  speedily  took  possession  of  their 
new  quarters,  forced  open  the  jammed  windows 
to  let  out  the  imprisoned  and  overheated  air,  piled 
their  boxes  of  hard  bread  and  stacks  of  tinned 
meat  at  the  ends  and  their  scant  soldier  goods 
and  chattels  in  the  rude  sections,  then  tumbled  out 
again  upon  the  platform  to  enjoy,  while  yet  there 
was  time,  the  freedom  of  the  outer  air,  despite  the 
torrid  heat  of  the  mid-day  sunshine. 

In  knots  of  three  or  four  they  sauntered  about, 
their  hands  deep  in  their  empty  pockets,  their  boy 
ish  eyes  curiously  studying  the  signs  and  posters, 
or  wistfully  peering  through  the  screened  doors  at 
the  temptations  of  the  bar  and  lunch  counter  or 
the  shaded  windows  of  the  dining-room,  where 


io  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

luckier  fellow-passengers  were  taking  their  fill  of 
the  good  cheer  afforded.  Two  of  the  number, 
dressed  like  the  rest  in  blue  flannel  shirts,  with 
trousers  of  lighter  hue  and  heavier  make,  fanning 
their  heated  faces  with  their  drab,  broad-brimmed 
campaign  hats,  swung  off  the  rear  end  of  the  ob 
jectionable  car,  and,  with  a  quick  glance  about 
them,  started  briskly  down  the  track  to  where  the 
"  diner"  and  certain  sleepers  of  the  Southern  Pa 
cific  were  being  shunted  about. 

"  Come  back  here,  you  fellers !"  shouted  the 
corporal,  catching  sight  of  the  pair.  "  You  don't 
know  how  soon  this  here  train  may  start.  Come 
back,  I  say,"  he  added  emphatically,  as  the  two, 
looking  first  into  each  other's  eyes,  seemed  to 
hesitate.  Then,  with  sullen,  down-cast  face  the 
nearer  turned  and  slowly  obeyed.  The  other,  a 
bright,  merry  youngster,  whose  white  teeth  gleamed 
as  he  laughed  his  reply,  still  stood  in  his  tracks. 

"  We're  only  going  to  the  dining-car,  corporal," 
he  shouted.  "  That's  going  with  us,  so  we  can't 
be  left." 

"  You've  got  no  business  in  the  dining-car, 
Mellen  ;  that's  not  for  your  sort,  or  mine,  for  that 
matter,"  was  the  corporal's  ultimatum.  And  with 
a  grin  still  expanding  his  broad  mouth,  the  recruit 


A  STORY   OF   MANILA  n 

addressed  as  Mellen  came  reluctantly  sauntering 
in  the  trail  of  his  comrade,  who  had  submitted  in 
silence  and  yet  not  without  a  shrug  of  protest.  It 
was  to  the  latter  the  corporal  spoke  when  the  two 
had  rejoined  their  associates. 

"You've  got  sense  enough  to  know  you're  not' 
wanted  at  that  diner,  Murray,  whether  Mellen  has 
or  not.  That's  no  place  for  empty  pockets.  What 
took  you  there?" 

"  Wanted  a  drink,  and  you  said  '  keep  away  from 
the  bar-room/  "  answered  Murray  briefly,  his  gray 
eyes  glancing  about  from  man  to  man  in  the 
group,  resting  for  just  a  second  on  the  form  and 
features  of  one  who  stood  a  little  apart,  a  youth 
of  twenty-one  years  probably.  "  It  was  Foster's 
treat,"  he  added,  and  that  remark  transferred  the 
attention  of  the  party  at  the  instant  to  the  young 
ster  on  the  outskirts. 

He  had  been  leaning  with  folded  arms  against  a 
lamp-post,  looking  somewhat  wearily  up  the  long 
platform  to  where  in  pairs  or  little  groups  the 
passengers  were  strolling,  men  and  women  both, 
seeking  relief  from  the  constraint  and  stiffness  of 
the  long  ride  by  rail.  He  had  an  interesting — 
even  a  handsome — face,  and  his  figure  was  well 
knit,  well  proportioned.  His  eyes  were  a  dark, 


12  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

soft  brown,  with  very  long,  curving  lashes,  his  nose 
straight,  his  mouth  finely  curved,  soft  and  sensitive. 
His  throat  was  full,  round,  and  at  the  base  very 
white  and  fair,  as  the  unfastened  and  flapping  shirt- 
collar  now  enabled  one  to  see.  His  hands,  too, 
were  soft  and  white,  showing  that  at  least  one  of 
the  twenty  came  not  from  the  ranks  of  the  toilers. 
His  shoes  were  of  finer  make  than  those  of  his 
comrades,  and  the  handkerchief  so  loosely  knotted 
at  the  opening  of  the  coarse  blue  shirt  was  of 
handsome  and  costly  silk.  He  had  been  paying 
scant  attention  to  his  surroundings,  and  was  ab 
sorbed,  evidently,  in  his  watch  on  the  tourists  up 
the  platform  when  recalled  to  himself  by  the  con 
sciousness  that  all  eyes  were  upon  him. 

"  What's  this  about  your  treatin',  Foster?"  asked 
the  corporal. 

For  a  week  he  had  felt  sure  the  boy  had  money, 
and  not  a  little.  Nothing  would  have  persuaded 
him  to  borrow  a  cent  of  Foster  or  anybody  else, 
but  others,  and  plenty  of  them,  had  no  such 
scruples. 

The  young  recruit  turned  slowly.  He  seemed 
reluctant  to  quit  his  scrutiny  of  his  fellow-passen 
gers.  The  abrupt  tone  and  manner  of  the  accus 
tomed  regular,  too,  jarred  upon  him.  It  might 


A    STORY   OF   MANILA  13 

be  the  corporal's  prerogative  so  to  address  his 
charges,  but  this  one  didn't  like  it,  and  meant  to 
show  that  he  didn't.  His  money  at  least  was  his 
own,  and  he  could  do  with  it  as  he  liked.  The 
answer  did  not  come  until  the  question  had  been 
asked  twice.  Then  in  words  as  brief  and  manner 
as  blunt  he  said, — 

" Why  shouldn't  I?" 

Corporal  Connelly  stood  a  second  or  two  with 
out  venturing  a  word,  looking  steadfastly  at  the 
young  soldier,  whose  attitude  was  unchanged  and 
whose  eyes  were  again  fixed  on  the  distant  group, 
as  though  in  weary  disdain  of  those  about  him. 
Then  Connelly  took  half  a  dozen  quick,  springy 
steps  that  landed  him  close  to  the  unmoved  re 
cruit. 

"  You've  two  things  to  learn  among  two  thou 
sand,  Foster,"  said  he  in  low,  firm  voice.  "  One  is 
to  keep  your  money,  and  the  other,  your  temper. 
I  spoke  for  your  good  principally,  but  if  you've 
been  ladling  out  your  money  to  be  spent  in  liquor, 
I  say  stop  it.  There's  to  be  no  whiskey  in  that 
car." 

"  Nobody  wants  it  less  than  I  do,"  said  Foster 
wearily.  "Why  didn't  you  keep  it  out  of  the 
others  ?" 


i4  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

"  Because  I  never  knew  till  it  was  gone.  How 
much  money  did  you  give  Murray — and  why?" 
and  Connelly's  eyes  were  looking  straight  into 
those  of  Foster  as  he  spoke,  compelling  respect 
for  sturdy  manhood. 

"  A  dollar,  I  believe,"  was  the  languid  answer, 
"  and  because  he  asked  it."  And  again  the  lad's 
gaze  wandered  off  along  the  platform. 

The  switch  engine  was  busily  at  work  making 
up  the  train,  and  brakemen  were  signalling  up  and 
down  the  line.  The  dining-car,  followed  by  some 
ponderous  sleepers,  came  gliding  slowly  along  the 
rails  and  brought  up  with  a  bump  and  jar  against 
the  buffers  of  the  old  tourists'  ark  assigned  the 
recruits.  Somewhere  up  at  the  thronged  station  a 
bell  began  to  jangle,  followed  by  a  shout  of  "  All 
aboard !" 

"  Tumble  in,  you  men,"  ordered  Connelly,  and 
at  the  moment  there  came  a  general  movement  of 
the  crowd  in  their  direction.  The  passengers  of 
the  sleepers  were  hurrying  to  their  assigned  places, 
some  with  flushed  faces  and  expostulation.  They 
thought  their  car  should  have  come  to  them. 

"  It's  because  our  train  is  so  very  long,"  ex 
plained  the  brakeman  to  some  ladies  whom  he  was 
assisting  up  the  steps.  "  We've  twice  as  many 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  15 

cars  as  usual.  Yours  is  the  next  car,  ma'am; 
the  one  behind  the  diner." 

The  recruit,  Foster,  had  started,  but  slowly, 
when  in  obedience  to  the  corporal's  order  his 
fellows  began  to  move.  He  was  still  looking, 
half  in  search,  half  in  expectation,  towards  the 
main  entrance  of  the  station  building.  But  the 
instant  he  became  aware  of  the  movement  in  his 
direction  on  the  part  of  the  passengers  he  pushed 
ahead  past  several  of  the  party;  he  even  half 
shoved  aside  one  of  their  number  who  had  just 
grasped  the  hand-rail  of  the  car,  then  sprang  lightly 
past  him  and  disappeared  within  the  door-way. 
There,  half  hidden  by  the  gloom  of  the  interior, 
he  stood  well  back  from  the  grimy  windows,  yet 
peering  intently  through  at  the  swiftly  passing 
crowd. 

Suddenly  he  stooped,  recoiled,  and  seated  him 
self  in  the  opposite  section  while  his  comrades 
came  filing  rapidly  in,  and  at  the  moment  a  tall 
young  officer  in  dark  uniform,  a  man  perhaps  of 
twenty-five,  with  a  singularly  handsome  face  and 
form,  strode  past  the  window,  scrupulously  ac 
knowledged  Connelly's  salute,  and  then,  glancing 
about,  saw  the  heads  and  shoulders  of  a  dozen 
soldiers  at  the  windows. 


1 6  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

"  Why,  what  detachment  is  this,  corporal  ?"  he 
asked.  "  We  brought  no  troops  on  our  train." 

"  Recruits  — th  Cavalry,  sir,"  was  the  ready 
answer.  "  We  came  by  way  of  Denver." 

"Ah,  yes;  that  explains  it.  Who's  in  com 
mand  ?"  And  the  tall  officer  looked  about  him  as 
though  in  search  of  kindred  rank." 

"  We  have  no  officer  with  us,  sir,"  said  Connelly 
diplomatically.  "  I'm — in  charge." 

"  You'll  have  to  hurry,  sir,"  spoke  the  brakeman 
at  the  moment.  "Jump  on  the  diner,  if  you  like, 
and  go  through." 

The  officer  took  the  hint  and  sprang  to  the  steps. 
There  he  turned  and  faced  the  platform  again  just 
as  the  train  began  to  move. 

A  little  group,  two  ladies  and  a  man  of  middle 
age,  stood  directly  opposite  him,  closely  scanning 
the  train,  and  all  on  a  sudden  their  faces  beamed, 
their  glances  were  directed,  their  hands  waved  to 
wards  him. 

"Good-by!  Good-by  !  Take  good  care  of  your 
self!  Wire  from  Sacramento !"  were  their  cries,  ad 
dressed  apparently  to  his  head,  and  turning  quickly, 
he  found  himself  confronting  a  young  girl  standing 
smiling  on  the  platform  of  the  dining-car,  her  tiny 
feet  about  on  a  level  with  his  knees ;  yet  he  had 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  17 

hardly  to  cast  an  upward  glance,  for  her  beaming, 
beautiful  face  was  but  a  trifle  higher  than  his  own. 
In  all  his  life  he  had  never  seen  one  so  pretty. 

Realizing  that  he  stood  between  this  fair  traveller 
and  the  friends  who  were  there  to  wish  her  god 
speed;  recognizing,  too,  with  the  swift  intuition 
of  his  class,  the  possibility  of  establishing  relations 
on  his  own  account,  the  young  soldier  snatched 
off  his  new  forage-  cap,  briefly  said,  "  I  beg  your 
pardon;  take  my  place,"  and,  swinging  outward, 
transferred  himself  to  the  rear  of  the  recruit  car, 
thereby  causing  the  corporal  to  recoil  upon  a 
grinning  squad  of  embryo  troopers  who  were 
shouting  jocular  farewell  to  the  natives,  and  getting 
much  in  the  way  of  train-hands  who  were  busy 
straightening  out  the  bell-cord. 

Something  seemed  amiss  with  that  portion  of  it 
which  made  part  of  the  equipment  of  the  old  tour 
ists'  car.  It  was  either  wedged  in  the  narrow 
orifice  above  the  door  or  caught  among  the  rings 
of  the  pendants  from  above,  for  it  resisted  every 
jerk,  whereat  the  brakeman  set  his  teeth  and  said 
improper  things.  It  would  have  grieved  the 
management  to  hear  this  faithful  employe's  de 
nunciation  of  that  particular  item  of  their  rolling- 
stock. 

2 


i8  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

"  Get  out  of  the  way  here,  boys,  and  let's  see 
what's  the  matter  with  this  damned  bell-cord,"  he 
continued,  elbowing  his  way  through  the  swarm 
about  the  door.  Once  fairly  within,  he  threw  a 
quick  glance  along  the  aisle.  The  left  sections 
of  the  car  were  deserted.  Out  of  almost  every 
window  on  the  right  side  poked  a  head  and  pair 
of  blue  flannel  shoulders. 

Only  one  man  of  the  party  seemed  to  have  no 
further  interest  in  what  was  going  on  outside. 
With  one  hand  still  grasping  the  edge  of  the  up 
right  partition  between  two  sections  near  the  for 
ward  end,  and  the  other  just  letting  go,  apparently, 
of  the  bell-cord,  the  tall,  slender,  well-built  young 
soldier,  with  dark-brown  eyes  and  softly  curling 
lashes,  was  lowering  himself  into  the  aisle.  The 
brakeman  proceeded  to  rebuke  him  on  the  spot. 

"  Look  here,  young  feller,  you'll  have  to  keep 
your  hands  off  that  bell-cord.  Here  I've  been 
cussin'  things  for  keeps,  thinking  it  was  knotted 
or  caught.  It  was  just  you  had  hold  of  it.  Don't 
you  know  better'n  that  ?  Ain't  you  ever  travelled 
before  ?" 

The  man  addressed  was  stowing  something 
away  inside  the  breast  of  his  shirt.  He  did  it 
with  almost  ostentatious  deliberation,  quietly  eying 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  19 

the  brakeman  before  replying.  Then,  slowly  read 
justing  the  knot  of  a  fine  black-silk  necktie,  so 
that  its  broad,  flapping  ends  spread  over  the 
coarser  material  of  the  garment,  he  slowly  looked 
the  justly  exasperated  brakeman  over  from  head  to 
foot  and  as  slowly  and  placidly  answered : 

"  Not  more  than  about  half  around  the  world. 
As  for  your  bell-cord,  it  was  knotted  ;  it  caught  in 
that  ring.  I  saw  that  someone  was  tugging  and 
trying  to  get  it  loose,  so  I  swung  up  there  and 
straightened  it.  Just  what  you'd  have  done  under 
the  circumstances,  I  fancy." 

The  brakeman  turned  redder  under  the  ruddy 
brown  of  his  sun-tanned  skin.  This  was  no  raw 
"  rookie"  after  all.  In  his  own  vernacular,  as  after 
wards  expressed  to  the  conductor,  "  I  seen  I  was 
up  ag'in'  the  real  t'ing  dis  time,"  but  it  was  hard  to 
admit  it  at  the  moment.  Vexation  had  to  have  a 
vent.  The  bell-cord  no  longer  served.  The  sup 
posed  meddler  had  proved  a  help.  Something  or 
somebody  had  to  be  the  victim  of  the  honest 
brakeman's  spleen,  so,  somewhat  unluckily,  as 
events  determined,  he  took  it  out  on  the  company 
and  that  decrepit  car,  now  buzzing  along  with 
much  complaint  of  axle  and  of  bearing. 

"  Damn  this  old  shake-down,  anyhow !"  said  he. 


20  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

"  The  company  ought  to  know  'nough  not  to  have 
such  things  lyin'  round  loose.  Some  night  it'll 
fall  to  pieces  and  kill  folks."  And  with  this  implied 
apology  for  his  aspersions  of  Recruit  Foster,  the 
brakeman  bustled  away. 

But  what  he  said  was  heard  by  more  than  one, 
and  remembered  when  perhaps  he  would  have 
wished  it  forgotten.  The  delay  at  Ogden  was  sup 
plemented  by  a  long  halt  before  the  setting  of  that 
blazing  sun,  necessitated  by  the  firing  of  the  waste 
in  the  boxes  of  those  long-neglected  trucks.  Far 
back  as  the  rearmost  sleeper  the  sickening  smell  of 
burning,  oil-steeped  packing  drove  feminine  occu 
pants  to  their  satchels  in  search  of  scent-bottles, 
and  the  men  to  such  comfort  as  could  be  found  in 
flasks  of  bulkier  make. 

In  the  heart  of  the  desert,  with  dust  and  desola 
tion  spreading  far  on  every  hand,  the  long  train 
had  stopped  to  douse  those  foul-smelling  fires,  and, 
while  train-hands  pried  off  the  red-hot  caps  and 
dumped  buckets  of  water  into  the  blazing  cavities, 
changing  malodorous  smoke  to  dense  clouds  of 
equally  unsavory  steam,  and  the  recruits  in  the 
afflicted  car  found  consolation  in  "joshing"  the 
hard-sweating,  hard-swearing  workers,  the  young 
officer  who  had  boarded  the  second  sleeper  at 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  21 

Ogden,  together  with  half  a  dozen  bipeds  in  dusters 
or  frazzled  shirt-sleeves,  had  become  involved  in  a 
complication  on  the  shadier  side  of  the  train. 

Somewhere  into  the  sage-brush  a  jack-rabbit  had 
darted  and  was  now  in  hiding.  With  a  dozen 
eager  heads  poked  from  the  northward  windows 
and  stretching  arms  and  index  fingers  guiding  them 
in  their  inglorious  hunt,  the  lieutenant  and  his  few 
associates  were  stalking  the  first  four-footed  object 
sighted  from  the  train  since  the  crossing  of  the 
bald  divide. 

Within  the  heated  cars,  with  flushed  faces  and 
plying  palm-leaf  fans,  a  few  of  the  women  passen 
gers  were  languidly  gazing  from  the  windows.  At 
the  centre  window  of  the  second  sleeper,  without  a 
palm-leaf  and  looking  serene  and  unperturbed,  sat 
the  young  girl  whose  lovely  face  had  so  excited 
Mr.  Stuyvesant's  deep  admiration.  Thrice  since 
leaving  Ogden,  on  one  pretext  or  other,  had  he 
passed  her  section  and  stolen  such  a  look  as  could 
be  given  without  obvious  staring.  Immediately 
in  rear  of  the  seat  she  occupied  was  an  austere 
maiden  of  middle  age,  one  of  the  passengers  who 
had  come  on  by  the  Union  Pacific  from  Omaha. 
Directly  opposite  sat  two  men  whom  Stuyvesant 
had  held  in  but  scant  esteem  up  to  the  time 


22  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

they  left  the  valley  of  Salt  Lake.  Now,  because 
their  sections  stood  over  against  hers,  his  manner 
relaxed  with  his  mood.  Circumstances  had  brought 
the  elderly  maid  and  himself  to  the  same  table  on 
two  occasions  in  the  dining-car,  but  he  had  hitherto 
felt  no  desire  to  press  the  acquaintance. 

This  afternoon  he  minded  him  of  a  new  book  he 
had  in  his  bag,  for  literature,  he  judged,  might  be 
her  hobby,  and  had  engaged  her  in  conversation, 
of  which  his  share  was  meant  to  impress  the  tiny, 
translucent  ear  that  nestled  in  the  dark-brown  coils 
and  waves  of  the  pretty  head  in  front  of  him. 

When,  however,  it  became  patent  that  his  com 
panion  desired  to  form  her  own  impressions  of  the 
pages  uninfluenced  by  his  well-delivered  comments, 
Mr.  Stuyvesant  had  bethought  him  of  the  semi- 
somnolent  occupants  of  the  opposite  section,  and 
some  cabalistic  signs  he  ventured  with  a  little  silver 
cup  summoned  them  in  pleased  surprise  to  the 
water-cooler  at  the  rear  end,  where  he  regaled  them 
with  a  good  story  and  the  best  of  V.  O.  P.  Scotch, 
and  accepted  their  lavish  bid  to  sit  with  them 
awhile. 

From  this  coign  of  vantage  he  had  studied  her 
sweet,  serious,  oval  face  as  she  sat  placidly  reading 
a  little  volume  in  her  lap,  only  once  in  a  while 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  23 

raising  a  pair  of  very  dark,  very  beautiful,  very 
heavily  browed  and  lashed  brown  eyes  for  brief 
survey  of  the  forbidding  landscape ;  then,  with 
never  an  instant's  peep  at  him,  dropping  their 
gaze  again  upon  the  book. 

Not  once  in  the  long,  hot  afternoon  had  she 
vouchsafed  him  the  minimum  of  a  show  of  interest, 
curiosity,  or  even  consciousness  of  his  presence. 
Then  the  train  made  its  second  stop  on  account  of 
the  fires,  and  Bre'r  Rabbit  his  luckless  break  into 
the  long  monotony  of  the  declining  day. 

Tentative  spikes,  clods,  and  empty  flasks  having 
failed  to  find  him,  the  beaters  had  essayed  a 
skirmish  line,  and  with  instant  result.  Like  a 
meteoric  puff  of  gray  and  white,  to  a  chorus  of 
yells  and  the  accompaniment  of  a  volley  of  mis 
siles,  Jack  had  shot  into  space  from  behind  his 
shelter  and  darted  zigzagging  through  the  brush. 
A  whizzing  spike,  a  chance  shot  that  nearly  grazed 
his  nose,  so  dazzled  his  brainlet  that  the  terrified 
creature  doubled  on  his  trail  and  came  bounding 
back  towards  the  train. 

Close  to  the  track-side  ran  a  narrow  ditch.  In 
this  ditch  at  the  instant  crouched  the  tall  lieuten 
ant.  Into  this  ditch  leaped  Bunny,  and  the  next 
second  had  whizzed  past  the  stooping  form  and 


24  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

bored  straight  into  a  little  wooden  drain.  There 
some  unseen,  unlooked-for  object  blocked  him. 

Desperately  the  hind-legs  kicked  and  tore  in  the 
effort  to  force  the  passage,  and  with  a  shout  of 
triumph  the  tall  soldier  swooped  upon  the  prize, 
seized  the  struggling  legs,  swung  the  wretched 
creature  aloft,  and  for  the  first  time  in  six  mortal 
hours  met  full  in  his  own  the  gaze  of  the  deep, 
beautiful  brown  eyes  he  had  so  striven  to  attract, 
and  they  were  half  pleading,  half  commanding  for 
Bunny.  The  next  instant,  uninjured,  but  leaping 
madly  for  life,  Bre'r  Rabbit  was  streaking  eastward 
out  of  harm's  way,  a  liberated  victim  whose  first 
huge  leap  owed  much  of  its  length  to  the  impetus 
of  Stuyvesant's  long,  lean,  sinewy  arm. 

This  time  when  he  looked  up  and  raised  his  cap, 
and  stood  there  with  his  blond  hair  blowing  down 
over  his  broad  white  forehead,  although  the  soft 
curves  of  the  ripe  red  lips  at  the  window  above 
him  changed  not,  there  was  something  in  the  dark- 
brown  eyes  that  seemed  to  say  "  Thank  you !" 

Yet  when  he  would  have  met  those  eyes  again 
that  evening,  when  "  Last  call  for  dinner  in  the 
dining-car"  was  sounding  through  the  train,  he 
could  not.  Neither  were  they  among  those  that 
peered  from  between  parted  curtains  in  the  dim 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  25 

light  of  the  sleeper,  many  in  fright,  all  in  anxiety, 
when  somewhere  in  the  dead  of  the  summer  night, 
long  after  all  occupants  of  the  rearmost  cars  were 
wrapped  in  slumber,  the  long  train  bumped  to 
sudden  jarring  standstill,  and  up  ahead  there  arose 
sound  of  rush,  of  excitement  and  alarm. 


CHAPTER    II. 

IT  was  just  after  sunset  when,  for  the  second 
time,  the  hot  boxes  of  the  recruit  car  had  been 
treated  to  liberal  libations  from  the  water-tank,  and 
the  belated  train  again  moved  on. 

Dinner  had  been  ready  in  the  dining-car  a  full 
hour,  but  so  long  as  the  sickening  smell  of  burning 
waste  arose  from  the  trucks  immediately  in  front 
very  few  of  the  passengers  seemed  capable  of  eat 
ing.  The  car,  as  a  consequence,  was  crowded 
towards  eight  o'clock,  and  the  steward  and  waiters 
were  busy  men. 

The  evening  air,  drifting  in  through  open  win 
dows,  was  cooler  than  it  had  been  during  the  day, 
but  still  held  enough  of  the  noontide  caloric  to 
make  fans  a  comfort,  and  Mr.  Stuyvesant,  dining 
at  a  "  four-in-hand"  table  well  to  the  front,  and  at 
tempting  to  hold  his  own  in  a  somewhat  desultory 
talk  with  his  fellow-men,  found  himself  paying  far 
more  attention  to  the  lovely  face  of  the  girl  across 
the  aisle  than  to  the  viands  set  before  him. 

She  was  seated  facing  the  front,  and  opposite 
the  austere  maiden  previously  mentioned.  Conver- 
26 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  27 

sation  had  already  begun,  and  now  Stuyvesant 
was  able  to  see  that,  beautiful  in  feature  as  was  her 
face  in  repose,  its  beauty  was  far  enhanced  when 
animated  and  smiling. 

When  to  well-nigh  perfect  external  features 
there  is  added  the  charm  of  faultlessly  even  and 
snowy  teeth  and  a  smile  that  illumines  the  entire 
face,  shining  in  the  eyes  as  it  plays  about  the 
pretty,  sensitive  mouth,  a  young  woman  is  fully 
equipped  for  conquest. 

Stuyvesant  gazed  in  fascination  uncontrollable. 
He  envied  the  prim,  precise  creature  who  sat  un 
bending,  severe,  and,  even  while  keeping  up  a 
semblance  of  interest  in  the  conversation,  seemed 
to  feel  it  a  duty  to  display  disapprobation  of  such 
youthful  charms. 

No  woman  is  so  assured  that  beauty  is  only  skin 
deep  as  she  who  has  none  of  it.  Her  manner, 
therefore,  had  been  decidedly  stiff,  and  from  that 
had  imperceptibly  advanced  to  condescension,  but 
when  the  steward  presently  appeared  with  a  siphon 
of  iced  seltzer,  and,  bowing  deferentially,  said  he 
hoped  everything  was  to  Miss  Ray's  liking,  and 
added  that  it  seemed  a  long  time  since  they  had 
seen  the  captain  and  supposed  he  must  be  a  colo 
nel  now,  the  thin  eyebrows  of  the  tall  maiden  were 


28  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

uplifted  into  little  arches  that  paralleled  the  furrows 
of  her  brow  as  she  inquired : 

"  Miss  Ray  ? — from  Fort  Leavenworth  ?" 

The  answer  was  a  smiling  nod  of  assent  as  the 
younger  lady  buried  her  lovely,  dark  face  in  the 
flowers  set  before  her  by  the  assiduous  waiter,  and 
Stuyvesant  felt  sure  she  was  trying  to  control  an 
inclination  to  laugh. 

"  Well,  you  must  excuse  me  if  I  have  been  a 
little — slow,"  said  the  elder  in  evident  perturbation. 
"  You  see — we  meet  such  queer  people  travelling — 
sometimes.  Don't  you  find  it  so  ?" 

The  dark  face  was  dimpling  now  with  suppressed 
merriment. 

"  Yes — occasionally,"  was  the  smiling  answer. 

"  But  then,  being  the  daughter  of  an  army 
officer,"  pursued  the  other  hurriedly,  "  you  have  to 
travel  a  great  deal.  I  suppose  you  really — have 
no  home  ?"  she  essayed  in  the  half-hopeful  tone  to 
be  expected  of  one  who  considered  that  a  being  so 
endowed  by  nature  must  suffer  some  compensatory 
discomforts. 

"  Yes  and — no,"  answered  Miss  Ray  urbanely. 
"  In  one  sense  we  army  girls  have  no  home.  In 
another,  we  have  homes  everywhere." 

It  is  a  reproach  in  the  eyes  of  certain  severe 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  29 

moralists  that  a  fellow-being  should  be  so  obvi 
ously  content  with  his  or  her  lot.  The  elder 
woman  seemed  to  feel  it  a  duty  to  acquaint  this 
beaming  creature  with  the  manifest  deficiency  in 
her  moral  make-up. 

"  Yes,  but  I  should  think  most  any  one  would 
rather  have  a  real  home,  a  place  where  they 
weren't  bounden  to  anybody,  no  matter  if  it  was 
homely.  (She  called  it  "  humbly,"  and  associated  it 
in  mind  with  the  words  of  Payne's  immortal  song.) 
"  Now,  when  I  went  to  see  Colonel  Ray  about  our 
society,  he  told  me  he  had  to  break  up  everything, 
going  to  Cuba,  but  he  didn't  mention  about  your 
going  West." 

"  Father  was  a  little  low  in  his  mind  that  day," 
said  Miss  Ray,  a  shade  of  sadness  passing  over  her 
face.  "  Both  my  brothers  are  in  the  service,  and 
one  is  barely  seventeen." 

"  Out  at  service  !"  interrupted  the  other.  "  You 
don't  mean " 

"No,"  was  the  laughing  answer,  and  in  Miss  Ray's 
enjoyment  of  the  situation  her  eyes  came  perilously 
near  seeking  those  of  Mr.  Stuyvesant,  which  she 
well  knew  were  fixed  upon  her.  "  I  mean  that 
both  are  in  the  army." 

"Well— I    thought    not— still— I    didn't   know. 


3o  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

It's  all  rather  new  to  me,  this  dealin'  with  sol 
diers,  but  I  suppose  I'll  get  to  know  all  about  it 
after  a  spell.  Our  society's  getting  much  encour- 
aged." 

"  Red  Cross  ?"  queried  Miss  Ray,  with  uplifted 
brows  and  evident  interest,  yet  a  suspicion  of  in 
credulity. 

"  Well,  same  thing,  only  we  don't  propose  to  levy 
contributions  right  and  left  like  they  do.  I  am  vice- 
president  of  the  Society  of  Patriotic  Daughters  of 
America,  you  know.  I  thought  perhaps  your  father 
might  have  told  you.  And  our  association  is  self- 
sustaining,  at  least  it  will  be  as  soon  as  we  are  for 
mally  recognized  by  the  government.  You  know 
the  Red  Cross  hasn't  any  real  standing,  whereas 
our  folks  expect  the  President  to  issue  the  order 
right  away,  making  us  part  of  the  regular  hospital 
brigade.  Now,  your  father  was  very  encouraging, 
though  some  officers  we  talked  to  were  too  stuck 
up  to  be  decent.  When  I  called  on  General  Dray- 
ton  he  just  as  much  as  up  and  told  me  we'd  only 
be  in  the  way." 

Just  here,  it  must  be  owned,  Miss  Ray  found  it 
necessary  to  dive  under  the  table  for  a  handker 
chief  which  she  had  not  dropped. 

Mr.    Stuyvesant,  ignoring  the   teachings  of  his 


A    STORY   OF   MANILA  31 

childhood  and  gazing  over  the  rim  of  his  coffee- 
cup,  observed  that  she  was  with  difficulty  conceal 
ing  her  merriment.  Then,  all  of  a  sudden,  her 
face,  that  had  been  so  full  of  radiance,  became  sud 
denly  clouded  by  concern  and  distress.  The  door 
at  the  head  of  the  car  had  swung  suddenly  open 
and  remained  so,  despite  the  roar  and  racket  of  the 
wheels  and  the  sweep  of  dust  and  cinders  down 
the  aisle.  The  steward  glanced  up  from  his  cup 
board  opposite  the  kitchen  window  at  the  rear,  and 
quickly  motioned  to  some  one  to  shut  that  door. 
A  waiter  sprang  forward,  and  then  came  the  stew 
ard  himself.  The  look  in  the  girl's  face  was 
enough  for  Stuyvesant.  He  whirled  about  to  see 
what  had  caused  it,  and  became  instantly  aware  of 
a  stout-built  soldier  swaying  uneasily  at  the  en 
trance  and  in  thick  tones  arguing  with  the  waiter. 
He  saw  at  a  glance  the  man  had  been  drinking, 
and  divined  he  was  there  to  get  more  liquor.  He 
was  on  the  point  of  warning  the  steward  to  sell 
him  none,  but  was  saved  the  trouble.  The  steward 
bent  down  and  whispered : 

11  This  makes  the  second  time  he's  come  in  since 
six  o'clock.  I  refused  to  let  him  have  a  drop. 
Can't  something  be  done  to  keep  him  out?  We 
can't  lock  the  door,  you  know,  sir." 


32  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

Stuyvesant  quickly  arose  and  stepped  up  the 
aisle.  By  this  time  everybody  was  gazing  towards 
the  front  entrance  in  concern  and  curiosity.  The 
colored  waiter  was  still  confronting  the  soldier  as 
though  to  prevent  his  coming  farther  into  the  car. 
The  soldier,  with  flushed  and  sodden  face  and 
angry  eyes,  had  placed  a  hand  on  the  broad 
shoulder  of  the  servant  and  was  clumsily  striving 
to  put  him  aside. 

Stuyvesant's  tall,  athletic  figure  suddenly  shut 
both  from  view.  Never  hesitating,  he  quickly 
elbowed  the  negro  out  of  the  way,  seized  the  door 
knob  with  his  left  hand,  throwing  the  door  wide 
open,  then,  looking  the  soldier  full  in  the  face, 
pointed  to  the  tourist  car  with  the  other. 

"  Go  back  at  once,"  was  all  he  said. 

The  man  had  been  hardly  six  days  in  service, 
and  had  learned  little  of  army  life  or  ways.  He 
was  a  whole  American  citizen,  however,  if  he  was 
half  drunk,  and  the  average  American  thinks  twice 
before  he  obeys  a  mandate  of  any  kind.  This  one 
coming  from  a  tall  young  swell  was  especially  ob 
noxious. 

The  uniform  as  yet  had  little  effect  on  Recruit 
Murray.  Where  he  hailed  from  the  sight  of  it  had 
for  years  provoked  only  demonstrations  of  derision 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  33 

and  dislike.  He  didn't  know  who  the  officer  was 
— didn't  want  to  know — didn't  care.  What  he 
wanted  was  whiskey,  and  so  long  as  the  money 
was  burning  in  his  pocket  he  knew  no  reason  why 
he  shouldn't  have  it.  Therefore,  instead  of  obey 
ing,  he  stood  there,  sullen  and  swaying,  scowling 
up  as  though  in  hate  and  defiance  into  the  grave, 
set  young  face.  Another  second  and  the  thing 
was  settled.  Stuyvesant's  right  hand  grasped  the 
blue  collar  at  the  throat,  the  long,  slender  fingers 
gripping  tight,  and  half  shot,  half  lifted  the  amazed 
recruit  across  the  swaying  platform  and  into  the 
reeling  car  ahead.  There  he  plumped  his  captive 
down  into  a  seat  and  sent  for  the  corporal.  Con 
nelly  came,  rubbing  his  eyes,  and  took  in  the  situ 
ation  at  a  glance. 

"  I  ordered  him  not  to  leave  the  car  three  hours 
ago,  sir,"  he  quickly  spoke.  "  But  after  supper  I 
got  drowsy  and  fell  asleep  in  my  section.  Then 
he  skinned  out.  I'd  iron  him,  sir,  if  I  had  any 
thing  of  the  kind." 

"  No,"  said  Stuyvesant,  "  don't  think  of  that. 
Just  keep  a  watch  over  him  and  forbid  his  leaving 
the  section.  No,  sir,  none  of  that,"  he  added,  as 
in  drunken  dignity  Murray  was  searching  for  a 
match  to  light  his  pipe  and  hide  his  humiliation. 

3 


34  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

"There  must  be  no  smoking  in  this  flimsy  car, 
corporal.  A  spark  would  set  fire  to  it  in  a  second." 

"  Them  was  my  orders,  sir.  This  fellow  knows 
it  as  well  as  I  do.  But  he's  given  trouble  one  way 
or  other  ever  since  we  started.  You  hear  that 
again,  now,  Murray:  no  drink;  no  smoke.  I'll  see 
to  it  that  he  doesn't  quit  the  car  again,  sir,"  he  con 
cluded,  turning  appealingly  to  the  young  officer, 
and  Stuyvesant,  taking  a  quiet  look  up  and  down 
the  dimly  lighted,  dusty  aisle,  was  about  to  return 
to  the  "  diner,"  when  Murray  struggled  to  his  feet. 
Balked  in  his  hope  of  getting  more  drink,  and  de 
frauded,  as  in  his  muddled  condition  it  seemed  to 
him,  of  the  solace  of  tobacco,  the  devil  in  him 
roused  to  evil  effort  by  the  vile  liquor  procured 
surreptitiously  somewhere  along  the  line,  the  time 
had  come  for  him,  as  he  judged,  to  assert  himself 
before  his  fellows  and  prove  himself  a  man. 

"  You  think  you're  a  better  man  than  I  am," 
he  began  thickly,  glaring  savagely  at  the  young 
officer.  "  But  I'll  be  even  with  you,  young  fellow. 

I'll "  And  here  ended  the  harangue,  for,  one 

broad  hand  clapped  over  the  leering  mouth  and 
the  other  grasping  the  back  of  his  collar,  Corporal 
Connelly  jammed  him  down  on  the  seat  with  a 
shock  that  shook  the  car. 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  35 

"  Shut  up,  you  drunken  fool !"  he  cried.  "  Don't 
mind  him,  lieutenant.  He's  only  a  day  at  the 
depot,  sir.  Sit  still,  you  blackguard,  or  I'll  smash 
you !" — this  to  Murray,  who,  half  suffocated,  was 
writhing  in  his  effort  to  escape.  "  A — ch !"  he 
cried,  with  sudden  wrenching  away  of  the  brawny 
hand,  "  the  beast  has  bitten  me,"  and  the  broad 
palm,  dripping  with  blood,  was  held  up  to  the  light. 

Deeply  indented,  there  were  the  jagged  marks  of 
Murray's  teeth. 

"  Here,  Foster,  Hunt,  grab  this  man  and  don't 
let  him  stir,  hand  or  foot.  See  what  you  get  for 
giving  a  drunkard  money.  Grab  him,  I  say!" 
shouted  Connelly,  grinning  with  mingled  pain  and 
wrath  as  the  lieutenant  led  him  to  the  wash-stand. 

Another  recruit,  a  stalwart  fellow,  who  had  ap 
parently  seen  previous  service,  sprang  to  the  aid  of 
the  first  two  named,  and  between  them,  though  he 
stormed  and  struggled  a  moment,  the  wretch  was 
jammed  and  held  in  his  corner. 

Stanching  the  blood  as  best  he  could  and  band 
aging  the  hand  with  his  own  kerchief,  Stuyvesant 
bade  the  corporal  sit  at  an  open  window  a  moment, 
for  he  looked  a  trifle  faint  and  sick, — it  was  a 
brutal  bite.  But  Connelly  was  game. 

"  That  blackguard's  got  to  be  taught  there's  a 


36  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

God  in  Israel,"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  turned  back  to 
the  rear  of  the  car.  "  I  beg  the  lieutenant's  pardon, 
but — he  is  not  in  the  regular  army,  I  see,"  with  a 
glance  at  the  collar  of  the  young  officer's  blouse. 
"  We  sometimes  get  hard  cases  to  deal  with,  and 
this  is  one  of  them.  This  kind  of  a  cur  wouldn't 
hesitate  to  shoot  an  officer  in  the  back  or  stab  him 
in  the  dark  if  he  didn't  like  him.  I  hope  the 
lieutenant  may  never  be  bothered  with  him  again. 
No,  damn  you !"  he  added  between  his  set  teeth,  as 
he  looked  down  at  the  sullen,  scowling  prisoner, 
"  what  you  ought  to  have  is  a  good  hiding,  and 
what  you'll  get,  if  you  give  any  more  trouble,  is  a 
roping,  hand  and  foot.  We  ought  to  have  irons  on 
a  trip  like  this,  lieutenant,"  he  continued,  glancing 
up  into  the  calm,  refined  face  of  the  young  soldier. 
"  But  I  can  get  a  rope,  if  you  say  so,  and  tie  him 
in  his  berth." 

"  I  have  no  authority  in  the  matter,"  said  Stuy- 
vesant  reflectively.  "  No  one  has  but  you,  that  I 
know  of.  Perhaps  he'll  be  quiet  when  he  cools 
down,"  and  the  lieutenant  looked  doubtfully  at  the 
semi-savage  in  the  section  nearest  the  door. 

"  He'll  give  no  more  trouble  this  night,  any 
how,"  said  Connelly,  as  the  officer  turned  to  go. 
"  And  thank  you,  sir,  for  this,"  and  he  held  up  the 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  37 

bandaged  hand.  "  But  I'll  keep  my  eyes  peeled 
whenever  he's  about  hereafter,  and  you'll  be  wise 
to  do  the  same,  sir." 

For  one  instant,  as  the  lieutenant  paused  at  the 
door-way  and  looked  back,  the  eyes  of  the  two  men 
met,  his  so  brave  and  blue  and  clear ;  the  other's — • 
Murray's — furtive,  blood-shot,  and  full  of  hate. 
Then  the  door  slammed  and  Stuyvesant  was  gone. 

Twice  again  that  night  he  visited  the  recruit  car. 
At  ten  o'clock,  after  enjoying  for  an  hour  or  more 
the  sight  of  Miss  Ray  in  animated  chat  with  two  of 
the  six  women  passengers  of  the  sleeper,  and  the 
sound  of  her  pleasant  voice,  Stuyvesant  wandered 
into  the  diner  for  a  glass  of  cool  Budweiser. 

"  That's  an  ugly  brute  of  a  fellow  that  bit  your 
corporal,  sir,"  said  the  steward.  "  I  was  in  there 
just  now,  and  he's  as  surly  as  a  cur  dog  yet." 

Stuyvesant  nodded  without  a  word.  He  was 
in  a  petulant  frame  of  mind.  He  wanted  "  worst 
kind,"  as  he  would  have  expressed  it,  to  know  that 
girl,  but  not  a  glance  would  she  give  him.  She 
owed  him  one,  thought  he,  for  letting  that  rabbit 
go.  Moreover,  being  an  army  girl,  as  he  had 
learned,  she  should  not  be  so  offish  with  an  officer. 

Then  the  readiness  with  which  the  corporal  had 
"  spotted"  him  as  a  volunteer,  as  not  a  regular, 


38  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

occurred  to  him,  and  added  to  his  faintly  irritable 
mood.  True,  his  coat-collar  bore  the  tell-tale 
letters  U.  S.  V.,  but  he  had  served  some  years  with 
one  of  the  swellest  of  swell  Eastern  regiments, 
whose  set-up  and  style  were  not  excelled  by  the 
regulars,  whose  officers  prided  themselves  upon 
their  dress  and  bearing. 

If  it  was  because  he  was  not  of  the  regular 
service  that  Miss  Ray  would  not  vouchsafe  him  a 
glance,  Mr.  Stuyvesant  was  quite  ready  to  bid  her 
understand  he  held  himself  as  high  as  any  soldier 
in  her  father's  famous  corps.  If  it  was  not  that,  then 
what  in  blazes  was  it  ? 

He  knew  that  in  travelling  cross  continent  in 
this  way  it  was  considered  the  proper  thing  for  an 
officer  of  the  regular  army  to  send  his  card  by 
the  porter  to  the  wife  or  daughter  of  any  brother 
officer  who  might  be  aboard,  and  to  tender  such 
civilities  as  he  would  be  glad  to  have  paid  his  own 
were  he  so  provided.  He  wondered  whether  it 
would  do  to  send  his  pasteboard  with  a  little  note 
to  the  effect  that  he  had  once  met  Colonel  Ray  at 
the  United  Service  Club,  and  would  be  glad  to  pay 
his  respects  to  the  colonel's  daughter. 

It  was  an  unusual  thing  for  Mr.  Stuyvesant  to 
quaff  beer  at  any  time,  except  after  heavy  exercise 


A  STORY   OF   MANILA  39 

at  polo  or  tennis,  but  to-night  he  was  ruffled,  and 
when  the  porter  began  making  up  the  berths  and 
dames  and  damsels  disappeared,  he  had  wandered 
disconsolately  into  the  diner  and  ordered  beer  as 
his  excuse.  Then  he  crossed  the  platform  and 
entered  the  tourist. 

The  night  was  hot  and  close.  The  men  were 
lying  two  in  a  berth,  as  a  rule,  the  upper  berths  not 
being  used. 

One  or  two,  Murray  among  them,  had  not 
removed  their  trousers,  but  most  of  them  were 
stretched  out  in  their  undergarments,  while  others, 
chatting  in  low  tones,  were  watching  the  brakeman 
turning  down  the  lights.  They  made  way  respect 
fully  as  the  lieutenant  entered.  Connelly  came  to 
meet  him  and  nodded  significantly  at  Murray,  who 
lay  in  a  berth  near  the  middle  of  the  car,  still  care 
fully  watched  by  Hunt.  Foster,  wearied,  had  turned 
in,  and,  with  his  face  to  the  window,  seemed  to  have 
fallen  asleep.  The  conductor  came  through,  lan 
tern  in  hand. 

"  It's  the  quietest  and  best  behaved  lot,  barring 
that  chap,  I  ever  carried,"  said  he  to  Stuyvesant. 
"  But  he's  wicked  enough  for  a  dozen.  Wonder  he 
don't  go  to  sleep." 

"  Humph !    says    he   wants    a   bottle    of    beer," 


40  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

grunted  Connelly.  "  Can't  get  to  sleep  without  it. 
I  wouldn't  give  it  to  him  if  I  had  a  kag." 

"  He  doesn't  deserve  it,  of  course,"  said  the  con 
ductor.  "  What  he  ought  to  have  is  an  all-around 
licking.  But  I've  known  beer  to  have  a  soothing 
effect  on  men  who'd  been  drinking,  and  it  might 
put  him  to  sleep  and  save  bother." 

"  Let  him  have  it,"  said  Stuyvesant  briefly.  "  I'll 
send  it  in  by  the  steward.  And,  corporal,  if  you 
or  any  of  your  men  would  like  it,  I'll  be  glad " 

Some  two  or  three  looked  quickly  and  expect 
antly  up,  as  though  they  might  like  it  very  much, 
but  Corporal  Connelly  said  he  "dassent,"  he  "never 
took  a  drink  of  anything  on  duty  since  three  years 
ago  come  Fourth  of  July."  So  the  others  were 
abashed  and  would  not  ask.  Older  hands  would 
not  have  held  their  tongues. 

To  Murray's  surprise,  a  brimming  glass  of  cool 
beer  was  presently  offered  him.  He  gulped  it 
thirstily  down,  and  without  a  word  held  out  the 
glass  for  more.  A  grinning  waiter  obliged  him 
with  what  remained  in  the  bottle.  Murray  asked 
if  that  was  all,  then,  with  something  like  a  grunt 
of  dissatisfaction,  rolled  heavily  over  and  turned 
his  face  to  the  wall. 

"  Well,  of  all  the   ungrateful   cads   I  ever  see," 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  41 

said  Hunt,  "  you're  the  worst !  D'ye  know  who 
sent  that  beer,  Murray  ?  It  was  the  young  officer 
you  insulted."  But  Murray's  only  answer  at  the 
moment  was  a  demand  that  Hunt  shut  up  and  let 
him  go  to  sleep. 

The  last  thing  Stuyvesant  remembered  before 
dozing  off  was  that  the  smell  of  those  journal- 
boxes  was  getting  worse.  At  two  in  the  morning, 
in  the  heart  of  the  desert,  the  conductor  had  made 
his  way  through  the  train  and  remarked  that,  de 
spite  that  unpleasant  odor,  every  man  of  the  recruit 
detachment  was  sound  asleep.  In  a  berth  next  the 
door  the  steward  of  the  dining-car  had  found 
room,  and  the  entire  car  seemed  wrapped  in 
repose. 

Five  minutes  later  by  the  watch,  it  was  wrapped 
in  flames. 

Speaking  of  the  matter  later  in  the  morning,  the 
brakeman  said  it  didn't  seem  ten  seconds  after  he 
had  pulled  the  bell-rope  and  given  the  alarm  before 
Lieutenant  Stuyvesant,  a  tall,  slim  figure  in  pajamas 
and  slippers,  came  bounding  to  his  aid. 

The  flames  even  then  were  bursting  from  under 
the  steps  and  platform,  the  dense  smoke  pouring 
from  the  rear  door  of  the  recruit  car,  and  coughing, 
choking,  blinded,  staggering,  some  of  them  scorched 


42  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

and  blistered,  most  of  them  clad  only  in  undershirt 
and  drawers,  the  luckless  young  troopers  came 
groping  forth  and  were  bundled  on  into  the  interior 
of  the  diner.  Some  in  their  excitement  strove  to 
leap  from  the  train  before  it  came  to  its  bumping, 
grinding  halt.  Some  were  screaming  in  pain  and 
panic.  Only  one,  Hunt,  was  dressed  throughout 
in  uniform. 

The  steward  of  the  diner,  nearly  suffocated 
before  being  dragged  out  of  his  berth,  was  making 
vain  effort  to  shove  a  way  back  into  the  blazing 
car,  crying  that  all  his  money  was  under  that 
pillow.  But  it  was  impossible  to  stem  the  torrent 
of  human  forms. 

The  instant  the  train  stopped,  the  flames  shot 
upward  through  the  skylight  and  ventilator,  and 
then  the  voice  of  Connelly  was  heard  yelling  for 
aid.  Seizing  a  blanket  that  had  been  dragged 
after  him  by  some  bewildered  recruit,  and  throw 
ing  it  over  his  head  and  shoulders,  Stuyvesant, 
bending  low,  dove  headlong  into  the  dense  wall 
of  smoke. 

The  flames  came  leaping  and  lapping  out  from 
the  door-way  the  instant  he  disappeared,  and  a 
groan  of  dismay  arose  from  the  little  group  already 
gathered  at  the  side  of  the  track.  Five,  ten 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  43 

seconds  of  awful  suspense,  and  then,  bending 
lower  still,  his  loose  clothing  afire,  his  hair  and 
eyebrows  singed,  his  face  black  with  soot  and 
smoke  and  seared  by  flame,  the  young  officer 
came  plunging  forth,  dragging  by  the  legs  a 
prostrate,  howling  man,  and  after  them,  blind  and 
staggering,  came  Connelly. 

Eager  hands  received  and  guided  the  rescuers, 
leading  them  into  the  diner,  while  the  trainmen 
worked  the  stiff  levers,  broke  loose  the  coupling, 
and  swung  their  lanterns  in  frantic  ^smals  to  the 
engineer,  far  ahead. 

Another  moment  and  the  blazing  car  was  drawn 
away,  run  up  the  track  a  hundred  yards,  and  left 
to  illumine  the  night  and  burn  to  ashes,  while  male 
passengers  swarmed  about  the  dining-car,  proffer 
ing  stimulant  and  consolation. 

Besides  Stuyvesant  and  Corporal  Connelly,  two 
soldiers  were  seriously  burned.  Every  stitch  of , 
clothing  not  actually  on  their  persons  at  the  mo 
ment  of  their  escape  was  already  consumed,  and 
with  it  every  ounce  of  their  soldier  rations  and 
supplies. 

The  men  least  injured  were  those  who,  being 
nearest  the  rear  door,  were  first  to  escape.  The 
men  worst  burned  were  those  longest  held  within 


44  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

the  blazing  car,  barring  one,  Murray,  whom  Hunt 
had  thoughtfully  bound  hand  and  foot  as  he  slept, 
reasoning  that  in  that  way  only  might  his  guardians 
enjoy  a  like  blessing. 

Connelly  had  tripped  over  the  roaring  bully  as 
he  lay  on  his  back  in  the  aisle.  Stuyvesant  had 
rushed  in,  and  between  them  they  dragged  him  to 
a  place  of  safety.  There,  his  limbs  unbound,  his 
tongue  unloosed,  Murray  indulged  in  a  blast  of 
malediction  on  the  road,  the  company,  the  govern 
ment,  his  comrades,  even  his  benefactors,  and  then 
thoughtfully  demanded  drink.  There  was  no 
longer  a  stern  corporal  to  forbid,  for  Connelly, 
suffering  and  almost  sightless,  had  been  led  into  a 
rear  coach.  But  there  was  no  longer  money  with 
which  to  buy,  for  Foster's  last  visible  cent  had  gone 
up  in  smoke  and  flame,  and,  scorched  and  smarting 
in  a  dozen  places,  wrapped  in  a  blanket  in  lieu  of 
clothes,  the  dark-eyed  young  soldier  sat,  still 
trembling  from  excitement,  by  the  roadside. 

It  was  three  hours  before  the  wreck  could  be 
cleared,  another  car  procured,  and  the  recruits 
bundled  into  it.  Then,  as  dawn  was  spreading 
over  the  firmament,  the  train  pushed  on,  and  the 
last  thing  Gerard  Stuyvesant  was  conscious  of 
before,  exhausted,  he  dropped  off  to  troubled 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  45 

sleep,  was  that  a  soft,  slender  hand  was  renewing 
the  cool  bandage  over  his  burning  eyes,  and  that 
he  heard  a  passenger  say  "  That  little  brunette — 
that  little  Miss  Ray — was  worth  the  hull  carload 
of  women  put  together.  She  just  went  in  and 
nursed  and  bandaged  the  burned  men  like  as 
though  they'd  been  her  own  brothers." 

Certainly  the  young  lady  had  been  of  particular 
service  in  the  case  of  Connelly  and  one  of  the 
seriously  injured  recruits.  She  had  done  some 
thing  for  every  man  whose  burns  deserved  atten 
tion,  with  a  single  exception. 

Recruit  Foster  had  declared  himself  in  need  of 
no  aid,  and  with  his  face  to  the  wall  lay  well  out 
of  sight. 


CHAPTER    III. 

AT  one  of  the  desert  stations  in  the  Humboldt 
Valley  a  physician  boarded  the  train  under  tele 
graphic  orders  from  the  company  and  went  some 
distance  up  the  road. 

He  had  brought  lint  and  bandages  and  soothing 
lotions,  but  in  several  cases  said  no  change  was 
advisable,  that  with  handkerchiefs  contributed  by 
the  passengers  and  bandages  made  from  surplus 
shirts,  little  Miss  Ray  had  extemporized  well  and 
had  skilfully  treated  her  bewildered  patients. 
Questioned  and  complimented  both,  Miss  Ray 
blushingly  admitted  that  she  had  studied  "  First 
Aid  to  the  Wounded"  and  had  had  some  instruc 
tions  in  the  post  hospitals  of  more  than  one  big 
frontier  fort.  Passengers  had  ransacked  bags  and 
trunks  and  presented  spare  clothing  to  the  few  re 
cruits  whom  the  garments  would  fit.  But  most  of 
the  men  were  shoeless  and  blanketed  when  morn 
ing  dawned,  and  all  were  thankful  when  served 
with  coffee  and  a  light  breakfast,  though  many 
even  then  were  too  much  excited  and  some  in  too 
much  pain  to  eat. 
46 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  47 

Mellen,  the  laughing  and  joyous  lad  of  yester 
day,  was  nursing  a  blistered  hand  and  arm  and 
stalking  about  the  car  in  stocking  feet  and  a  pair 
of  trousers  two  sizes  too  big  for  him.  Murray, 
now  that  the  corporal  was  no  longer  able  to  retain 
active  command,  had  resumed  his  truculent  and 
swaggering  manner.  Almost  the  first  thing  he  did 
was  to  demand  more  money  of  Foster,  and  call 
him  a  liar  when  told  that  every  dollar  was  burned. 
Then  he  sought  to  pick  a  fight  with  Hunt,  who 
had,  as  he  expressed  it,  "  roped  him  like  a  steer," 
but  the  carload  by  this  time  had  had  too  much  of 
his  bluster  and  made  common  cause  against  him. 

Two  brawny  lads  gave  him  fair  warning  that  if 
he  laid  a  finger  on  Hunt  they  would  "  lay  him 
out."  Then  he  insisted  on  seeing  the  corporal  and 
complaining  of  ill-treatment.  And  with  such  diver 
sion  the  long  day  wore  on. 

Stuyvesant,  refreshed  by  several  hours  of  sleep, 
yet  looking  somewhat  singed  and  blistered,  went 
through  the  car  to  see  the  sufferers  along  towards 
eleven  o'clock.  He  had  inquired  of  the  porter  for 
Miss  Ray,  who  was  not  visible  when  he  had  fin 
ished  his  toilet,  and  was  told  that  she  had  remained 
up  until  after  the  doctor  came  aboard,  and  was 
now  sleeping.  Finding  three  of  the  men  stretched 


48  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

in  the  berths  with  comrades  fanning  them,  he  or 
dered  cooling  drinks  compounded  by  the  steward, 
and  later,  as  they  began  the  climb  of  the  Sierras 
and  the  men  grew  hungry,  he  sought  to  get  a  sub 
stantial  luncheon  for  them  on  the  diner,  but  was 
told  their  supply  on  hand  was  barely  sufficient  for 
the  regular  passengers. 

So  when  the  train  stopped  at  Truckee  he  tumbled 
off  with  three  of  the  party,  bought  up  a  quantity 
of  bread  and  cheese,  soda  crackers  and  fruit,  and 
after  consultation  with  the  conductor  wired  ahead 
to  Sacramento  for  a  hot  dinner  for  eighteen  men  to 
be  ready  at  the  restaurant  in  the  station,  it  being 
now  certain  that  they  could  not  reach  San  Fran 
cisco  before  midnight.  "  The  company  ought  to 
do  that,"  said  the  trainmen,  and  "the  company" 
had  authorized  the  light  breakfast  tendered  earlier 
in  the  day.  In  view  of  the  fact  that  every  item  of 
personal  property  in  possession  of  the  recruits  had 
been  destroyed,  together  with  every  crumb  of  their 
rations,  nobody  questioned  that  the  company  would 
only  be  too  glad  to  do  that  much  for  the  men  so 
nearly  burned  alive  in  their  travelling  holocaust. 

Not  a  doubt  was  entertained  among  either  pas 
sengers  or  trainmen  as  to  the  origin  of  the  fire. 
It  had  started  underneath,  and  the  dry  wood- 


A   STORY    OF    MANILA  49 

work  burned  like  tinder,  and  what  was  there  to 
cause  it  but  those  blazing  boxes  on  the  forward 
truck  ?  The  conductor  knew  there  had  been  no 
smoking  aboard  the  car,  and  that  every  man  was 
asleep  when  he  went  through  at  two  o'clock.  The 
brakeman  had  prophesied  disaster  and  danger. 
It  was  God's  mercy  that  warned  the  poor  fellows 
in  time. 

Not  until  along  in  the  afternoon,  as  they  were 
spinning  swiftly  down  through  the  marvellous 
scenery  about  Blue  Canon  and  Cape  Horn,  did 
Miss  Ray  again  appear.  Stuyvesant  had  been 
sitting  awhile  by  Connelly,  and  had  arranged  with 
him  to  wire  to  the  Presidio  for  ambulances  to  meet 
the  party  at  Oakland  Pier,  for  two  at  least  would 
be  unable  to  walk,  and,  until  provided  with  shoes 
and  clothing,  few  could  march  the  distance.  Then 
he  had  spent  a  few  minutes  with  the  other  patients. 

When  he  returned  to  the  sleeper  there  at  last 
was  the  object  of  so  many  of  his  thoughts.  But 
she  was  reclining  wearily,  her  head  upon  a  pillow, 
and  the  austere  maid  and  two  other  women  stood 
guard  over  her.  "A  severe  headache,"  was  the 
explanation,  and  Stuyvesant  felt  that  he  must  defer 
his  intrusion  until  later. 

Somewhere  down  the  western  slope  of  the  Sier- 
4 


50  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

ras  he  found  at  a  station  some  delicious  cherries, 
and  a  little  basket  of  the  choicest  he  made  bold  to 
send  with  his  compliments  and  the  hope  that  her 
indisposition  would  soon  disappear.  The  porter 
came  back  with  the  lady's  thanks.  The  cherries 
were  "  lovely,"  but  Stuyvesant  observed  that  not 
more  than  one  or  two  found  their  way  to  those 
pearly  teeth,  the  rest  being  devoured  by  her  too 
devoted  attendants. 

It  was  after  nine  at  night  when  he  marshalled  his 
motley  party  into  the  dining-room  at  Sacramento 
and  they  were  made  glad  by  substantial,  well- 
cooked  food,  with  abundant  hot  coffee.  They 
thanked  him  gratefully,  did  many  of  the  young 
fellows,  and  hoped  they  might  meet  more  such 
officers.  An  elderly  passenger  who  had  quietly 
noted  the  outlay  of  money  to  which  Mr.  Stuyve 
sant  had  been  subjected  strolled  up  to  the  manager. 
"  That  young  gentleman  has  had  to  pay  too  much 
to-day.  Just  receipt  the  bill  if  you  please,"  said 
he,  and  drew  forth  a  roll  of  treasury  notes.  Stuy 
vesant  went  in  search  of  this  new  benefactor  when 
he  heard  of  it.  "  There  was  really  no  necessity, 
sir,"  said  he,  "  though  I  fully  appreciate  your  kind 
ness.  The  company  will  doubtless  reimburse  me 
for  any  such  outlay." 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  51 

"  If  they  will  reimburse  you,  my  young  friend," 
said  the  veteran  traveller  drily,  "  they'll  reimburse 
me.  At  all  events,  I  know  them  better  than  you 
do,  and  I  don't  intend  to  let  you  bear  all  the  risk." 
The  lieutenant  argued,  but  the  elder  was  firm.  As 
the  men  shuffled  back  to  the  train  with  full 
stomachs  and  brightened  faces,  Murray  hulking 
by  them  with  averted  eyes  and  Mellen  tendering 
a  grinning  salute,  the  manager  came  forward. 
"  There's  one  man  shy,  sir,  even  counting  the 
dinners  sent  aboard,"  said  he,  and  Hunt,  hearing 
it,  turned  back  and  explained. 

"  It  is  Foster,  sir.  He  said  he  wasn't  hungry 
and  couldn't  eat.  I  reckon  it's  because  he  wouldn't 
turn  out  in  such  looking  clothes  as  were  given 
him." 

Yet  when  Stuyvesant  went  to  the  car  to  see 
whether  the  young  soldier  could  not  be  induced 
to  change  his  mind,  it  was  discovered  that  he  had 
turned  out.  His  berth  was  empty.  Nor  did  he 
appear  until  just  as  the  train  was  starting.  He 
explained  that  he  had  stepped  off  on  the  outer 
side  away  from  the  crowd  for  a  little  fresh  air. 
There  was  plenty  of  bread  and  cheese  left  from 
luncheon.  He  didn't  care  for  anything,  really. 
And,  indeed,  he  seemed  most  anxious  to  get  back 


52  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

to  his  berth  and  away  from  the  lieutenant,  in  whose 
presence  he  was  obviously  and  painfully  ill  at  ease. 

Stuyvesant  turned  away,  feeling  a  trifle  annoyed 
or  hurt,  he  couldn't  tell  which,  and  swung  himself 
to  the  platform  of  the  sleeper  as  it  came  gliding  by. 
At  last  he  could  hope  to  find  opportunity  to  thank 
Miss  Ray  for  her  attention  to  the  injured  men  and 
incidentally  her  ministrations  on  his  own  account. 
Then,  once  arrived  at  San  Francisco,  where  he  had 
friends  of  rank  and  position  in  the  army,  he  would 
surely  meet  some  one  who  knew  her  father  well 
and  possibly  herself,  some  one  to  present  him  in 
due  form,  but  for  the  present  he  could  only  hope 
to  say  a  conventional  word  or  two  of  gratitude, 
and  he  was  striving  to  frame  his  thoughts  as  he 
hastened  into  the  brightly  lighted  car  and  towards 
the  section  where  last  he  had  seen  her. 

It  was  occupied  by  a  new-comer,  a  total  stranger, 
and  the  three  women  recently  sharing  her  section 
and  more  than  sharing  her  cherries  were  now  in 
animated  chat  across  the  aisle.  In  blank  surprise 
and  disappointment,  Stuyvesant  turned  and  sought 
the  porter. 

"  Miss  Ray !  Yes,  suh.  She  done  got  off  at 
Sacramento,  suh.  Dere  was  friends  come  to  meet 
her,  and  took  her  away  in  the  carriage." 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  53 

Once  more  Stuyvesant  found  himself  constrained 
to  seek  the  society  of  the  maiden  of  uncertain 
years.  Her  presence  was  forbidding,  her  coun 
tenance  severe,  and  her  voice  and  intonation  some 
thing  appalling.  But  she  might  know  Miss  Ray's 
address;  he  could  at  least  write  his  thanks;  but 
he  found  the  vice-president  of  the  Order  of  the 
Patriotic  Daughters  of  America  in  evil  mood.  She 
didn't  know  Miss  Ray's  address,  and  in  the  further 
assertion  that  she  didn't  want  to  know  too  readily 
betrayed  the  fact  that  her  petulance  was  due  to  her 
not  having  been  favored  therewith. 

"After  all  I  did  for  her  last  night  and  to-day 
'twould  have  been  a  mighty  little  thing  to  tell 
where  she  was  going  to  stop,  but  just  soon's  her 
fine  friends  came  aboard  she  dropped  us  like  as  if 
we  weren't  fit  to  notice." 

The  irate  lady,  however,  seemed  to  find  scant 
sympathy  and  support  in  the  faces  of  her  listeners, 
some  of  whom  had  long  since  wearied  of  her 
strident  voice  and  oracular  ways.  It  was  well 
remembered  that  so  far  from  being  of  aid  or  value  in 
caring  for  the  injured  men,  she  had  pestered  people 
with  undesired  advice  and  interference,  had  made 
much  noise  and  no  bandages,  and  later,  when  an 
official  of  the  company  boarded  the  train,  had  con- 


54  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

stituted  herself  spokeswoman  for  the  passengers, 
not  at  all  to  their  advantage  and  much  to  his  dis 
gust.  Then,  finding  that  Miss  Ray  was  looked 
upon  as  the  only  heroine  of  the  occasion,  she  had 
assumed  a  guardianship,  so  to  speak,  aver  that 
young  lady  which  became  almost  possessive  in 
form,  so  passively  was  it  tolerated. 

She  had  plied  the  girl  with  questions  as  to  the 
friends  who  were  to  meet  her  on  arrival  in  San 
Francisco,  and  Miss  Ray  had  smilingly  given 
evasive  answers. 

When,  therefore,  they  neared  Sacramento  and 
the  vice-president  announced  her  intention  of  sally 
ing  forth  to  see  to  it  that  proper  victuals  were 
provided  for  her  soldier  boys,  Miss  Ray  had  a  few 
minutes  in  which  to  make  her  preparations,  and 
the  next  thing  the  vice-president  saw  of  her  sup 
posed  ward  and  dependant,  that  young  lady  was  in 
the  embrace  of  a  richly  dressed  and  most  distin 
guished  looking  woman,  whose  gray  hair  only 
served  to  heighten  the  refinement  of  her  features. 
Just  behind  the  elder  lady  stood  a  silk-hatted  dig 
nitary  in  the  prime  of  life,  and  behind  him  a  foot 
man  or  valet,  to  whom  the  porter  was  handing 
Miss  Ray's  belongings. 

And  what  the  vice-president  so  much  resented 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  55 

was  that  Miss  Ray  had  not  only  never  mentioned 
her  purpose  of  leaving  the  train  at  Sacramento,  but 
never  so  much  as  introduced  her  friends,  at  whom 
the  vice-president  smiled  invitingly  while  accepting 
Miss  Ray's  courteous  but  brief  thanks  for  "  so 
much  attention  during  the  afternoon,"  but  who 
merely  bowed  in  acknowledgment  when  she  would 
have  addressed  them  on  the  subject  of  Miss  Ray's 
being  of  so  much  help  to  her  when  help  was  so 
much  needed,  and  who  spirited  the  young  lady 
away  to  the  handsome  carriage  awaiting  her. 

The  vice-president  was  distinctly  of  the  opinion 
that  folks  didn't  need  to  slink  off  in  that  way  unless 
they  were  ashamed  of  where  they  were  going  or 
afraid  of  being  found  out,  whereat  Stuyvesant  found 
himself  gritting  his  teeth  with  wrath,  and  so 
whirled  about  and  left  her. 

It  was  after  midnight  when  they  reached  the 
pier  at  Oakland.  There,  under  the  great  train-shed, 
track  after  track  was  covered  with  troop  cars  and 
a  full  regiment  lay  sleeping. 

An  alert  young  officer  of  the  guard  raised  his 
hand  in  salute  as  Stuyvesant  addressed  him.  No, 
there  were  no  ambulances,  no  soldiers  from  the 
Presidio.  They  might  be  waiting  across  the  ferry 

But  how  was  he  to  get  the  injured  men  across 


56  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

the  ferry,  thought  Stuyvesant.  Two  of  them  would 
have  to  be  carried. 

The  long  train,  except  that  recruit  car,  was  now 
emptied.  The  throng  of  passengers  had  gone  on 
through  the  waiting-rooms  and  up  the  stairway  to 
the  saloon  deck  of  the  huge  ferry-boat.  If  he  pur 
posed  going,  no  time  was  to  be  lost,  and  the  porter 
bearing  his  hand-luggage  ventured  a  word  to  that 
effect. 

Stuyvesant  looked  back.  There  were  protruding 
heads  at  many  of  the  windows  of  the  recruit  car, 
but,  obedient  to  the  instructions  given  by  Connelly, 
no  man,  apparently,  had  left  his  place,  and  Con 
nelly,  though  suffering,  had  evidently  resumed  con 
trol,  much  benefited  by  the  services  of  another 
physician  who  had  boarded  the  train  in  the  late 
afternoon  and  renewed  the  bandages  and  dressings 
of  the  injured  men.  Then  Stuyvesant  became 
suddenly  aware  of  a  messenger-boy  with  a  tele 
gram.  It  was  addressed  to  "  Lieutenant  Stuyvesant, 
A.  D.  C,  Train  No.  2,  Oakland."  Tearing  it  open, 
he  read  as  follows  : 

"  Report  by  wire  condition  of  Recruit  Foster. 
If  serious,  have  him  conveyed  to  St.  Paul's  Hos 
pital.  Commission  as  lieutenant  and  signal  officer 
awaits  him  here." 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  57 

It  was  signed  by  the  adjutant-general  at  depart 
ment  head-quarters,  San  Francisco. 

But  the  boy  had  still  another.  This  too  he  held 
forth  to  Stuyvesant,  and  the  latter,  not  noticing 
that  it  was  addressed  "  Commanding  Officer  U.  S. 
Troops,  Train  No.  2,"  mechanically  opened  and 
read  and  made  a  spring  for  the  car. 

The  message  was  from  Port  Costa,  barely  thirty 
miles  away,  and  briefly  said :  "  Any  your  men 
missing?  Soldier  left  car  here  believed  jumped 
overboard  return  trip  ferry-boat." 

One  man  was  missing.  Recruit  Foster,  for 
whom  a  commission  as  lieutenant  and  signal  officer 
was  waiting  at  department  head-quarters,  could  not 
be  found. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

IN  the  busy  week  that  followed  Lieutenant  Stuy- 
vesant  had  his  full  share  of  work  and  no  time 
for  social  distraction.  Appointed  to  the  staff  of 
General  Vinton,  with  orders  to  sail  without  delay 
for  Manila,  the  young  officer  found  his  hours  from 
morn  till  late  at  night  almost  too  short  for  the 
duties  demanded  of  him. 

The  transports  were  almost  ready.  The  troops 
had  been  designated  for  the  expedition.  The  supplies 
were  being  hurried  aboard.  The  general  had  his 
men  all  the  livelong  day  at  the  rifle-ranges  or  drill- 
grounds,  for  most  of  the  brigade  were  raw  volun 
teers  who  had  been  rushed  to  the  point  of  rendez 
vous  with  scant  equipment  and  with  less  instruc 
tion.  The  camps  were  thronged  with  men  in  all 
manner  of  motley  as  to  dress  and  no  little  variety 
as  to  dialect.  Few  of  the  newly  appointed  officers 
in  the  Department  of  Supply  were  versed  in  their 
duties,  and  the  young  regulars  of  the  staff  of  the 
commanding  general  were  working  sixteen  hours 
out  of  the  twenty-four,  coaching  their  comrades 
of  the  volunteers. 
58 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  59 

The  streets  were  crowded  with  citizens  eager  to 
welcome  and  applaud  the  arriving  troops.  Hotels 
were  thronged.  Restaurants  were  doing  a  thriving 
business,  for  the  army  ration  did  not  too  soon 
commend  itself  in  its  simplicity  to  the  stomachs 
of  some  thousands  of  young  fellows  who  had 
known  better  diet  if  no  better  days,  many  of  their 
number  having  left  luxurious  homes  and  surround 
ings  and  easy  salaries  to  shoulder  a  musket  for 
three  dollars  a  week. 

Private  soldiers  in  blue  flannel  shirts  were  learn 
ing  to  stand  attention  and  touch  their  caps  to 
young  men  in  shoulder-straps  whom  they  had 
laughed  at  and  called  "  tin  soldiers"  a  year  agone 
because  they  belonged  to  the  militia — a  thing  most 
of  the  gilded  youth  in  many  of  our  Western  cities 
seemed  to  scorn  as  beneath  them. 

In  the  wave  of  patriotic  wrath  and  fervor  that 
swept  the  land  when  the  Maine  was  done  to  death 
in  Havana  Harbor,  many  and  many  a  youth  who 
has  sneered  at  the  State  Guardsmen  learned  to 
wish  that  he  too  had  given  time  and  honest  effort 
to  the  school  of  the  soldier,  for  now,  unless  he  had 
sufficient  "pull"  to  win  for  him  a  staff  position, 
his  only  hope  was  in  the  ranks. 

And  so,  even  in  the  recruit  detachments  of  the 


6o  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

regulars,  were  found  scores  of  young  men  whose 
social  status  at  home  was  on  a  plane  much  higher 
than  that  of  many  of  their  officers.  But  the  time 
had  come  when  the  long  and  patient  effort  of  the 
once  despised  militiaman  had  won  deserved  recog 
nition.  The  commissions  in  the  newly  raised  regi 
ments  were  held  almost  exclusively  by  officers  who 
had  won  them  through  long  service  with  the  Na 
tional  Guard. 

And  in  the  midst  of  all  the  whirl  of  work  in 
which  he  found  himself,  Lieutenant  Stuyvesant 
had  been  summoned  to  the  tent  of  General  Dray- 
ton,  commanding  the  great  encampment  on  the 
sand-lots  south  of  the  Presidio  reservation,  and 
bidden  to  tell  what  he  knew  of  one  Walter  F. 
Foster,  recruit  — th  Cavalry,  member  of  the  detach 
ment  sent  on  via  the  Denver  and  Rio  Grande  to 
Ogden,  then  transferred  to  the  Southern  Pacific 
train  Number  2  en  route  to  San  Francisco,  which 
detachment  was  burned  out  of  its  car  and  the  car 

out  of  its  train  early  on  the  morning  of  the  of 

June,  1898,  somewhere  in  the  neighborhood  of  a 
station  with  the  uncouth  name  of  Beowawe  in  the 
heart  of  the  Humboldt  Desert,  and  which  Recruit 
Foster  had  totally  disappeared  the  following  even 
ing,  having  been  last  seen  by  his  comrades  as  the 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  61 

train  was  ferried  across  Carquinez  Straits,  thirty 
miles  from  Oakland  Pier,  and  later  by  railway 
hands  at  Port  Costa  on  the  back  trip  of  the  big 
boat  to  the  Benicia  side. 

There  was  little  Stuyvesant  could  tell.  He 
hardly  remembered  the  man  except  as  a  fine- 
featured  young  fellow  who  seemed  shy,  nervous, 
and  unstrung,  something  Stuyvesant  had  hitherto 
attributed  to  the  startling  and  painful  experience 
of  the  fire,  and  who,  furthermore,  seemed  desirous 
of  dodging  the  lieutenant,  which  circumstance 
Stuyvesant  could  not  fathom  at  all,  and  if  anything 
rather  resented. 

He  explained  to  the  general  that  he  was  in  no 
wise  responsible  for  the  care  of  the  detachment. 
He  had  only  casually  met  them  at  Ogden,  and 
circumstances  later  had  thrown  him  into  closer 
relation. 

But  the  veteran  general  was  desirous  of  further 
information.  He  sat  at  the  pine  table  in  his 
plainly  furnished  tent,  looking  thoughtfully  into 
the  frank  and  handsome  face  of  the  young  officer, 
his  fingers  beating  a  tattoo  on  the  table-top.  The 
general's  eyes  were  sombre,  even  sad  at  times. 
Beneath  them  lay  lines  of  care  and  sorrow.  His 
voice  was  low,  his  manner  grave,  courteous,  even 


62  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

cold.  He  was  studying  his  man  and  discussing  in 
his  mind  how  far  he  might  confide  in  him. 

Obedient  to  the  general's  invitation,  Stuyvesant 
had  taken  a  chair  close  to  the  commander's  table 
and  sat  in  silence  awaiting  further  question.  At 
last  it  came. 

"  You  say  he  left  nothing — no  trace — behind?" 

"  There  was  nothing  to  leave,  general.  He  had 
only  a  suit  of  underwear,  in  which  he  escaped 
from  the  car.  The  men  say  he  had  had  money 
and  a  valise  filled  with  things  which  he  strove  to 
keep  from  sight  of  any  of  his  fellows.  They  say 
that  he  befriended  a  tough  character  by  the  name 
of  Murray,  who  had  enlisted  with  him,  and  they 
think  Murray  knows  something  about  him." 

"  Where  is  Murray  now  ?"  asked  the  chief. 

"  In  the  guard-house  at  the  Presidio.  He  gave 
the  corporal  in  charge  a  good  deal  of  trouble  and 
was  placed  under  guard  the  morning  they  reached 
the  city.  They  had  to  spend  the  night  with  the 
Iowa  regiment  at  Oakland  Pier." 

Again  the  gray-haired  general  gave  himself  to 
thought.  "  Could  you  tell  how  he  was  dressed 
when  he  disappeared?"  he  finally  asked. 

"  A  young  man  in  the  second  sleeper  gave  him 
a  pair  of  worn  blue  serge  trousers  and  his  morocco 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  63 

slippers.  Somebody  else  contributed  a  n£glig£ 
shirt  and  a  black  silk  travelling  cap.  He  was 
wearing  these  when  last  I  spoke  to  him  at  Sacra 
mento,  where  he  would  not  eat  anything.  I — I 
had  wired  ahead  for  dinner  for  them." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  general  with  sudden  indignation 
in  his  tone,  "  and  I'm  told  the  company  refused  to 
reimburse  you  What  excuse  did  they  give  ?" 

"  It's  of  little  consequence,  sir,"  laughed  Stuy- 
vesant.  "  The  loss  hasn't  swamped  me." 

"  That's  as  may  be,"  answered  the  general.  "  It's 
the  principle  involved.  That  company  is  coining 
money  by  the  thousands  transporting  troops  at  full 
rates,  and  some  of  the  cars  it  furnished  were  simply 
abominable.  What  was  the  excuse  given  ?" 

"  They  said,  or  rather  some  official  wrote,  that 
they  wouldn't  reimburse  us  because  they  had 
already  had  to  sustain  the  loss  of  that  car  due  to  the 
carelessness  of  our  men,  and  their  own  train-hands, 
general,  knew  there  was  no  smoking  and  the  men 
were  all  asleep.  Foster  had  a  very  narrow  escape, 
and  Corporal  Connelly  was  badly  burned  lugging 
Murray  out." 

The  general  took  from  a  stack  of  correspondence 
at  his  right  hand  a  letter  on  club  paper,  studied  it 
a  moment,  and  then  glanced  up  at  Stuyvesant. 


64  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

"Was  not  Colonel  Ray's  regiment  with  you  at 
Chickamauga  ?"  he  asked. 

"  It  was  expected  when  I  left,  general.  You 
mean  the  — th  Kentucky  ?" 

"  I  mean  his  volunteer  regiment — yes.  I  was 
wondering  whether  any  of  his  family  had  gone 
thither.  But  you  wouldn't  be  apt  to  know." 

And  Stuyvesant  felt  the  blood  beginning  to 
mount  to  his  face.  He  could  answer  for  it  that 
one  member  had  not  gone  thither.  He  was  won 
dering  whether  he  ought  to  speak  of  it  when  Dray- 
ton  finally  turned  upon  him  and  held  forth  the  letter. 
"  Read  that,"  said  he,  "  but  regard  it  as  confiden 
tial." 

It  was  such  a  letter  as  one  frank  old  soldier 
might  write  another.  It  was  one  of  a  dozen  that 
had  come  to  Drayton  that  day  asking  his  interest 
in  behalf  of  some  young  soldier  about  joining  his 
command.  It  was  dated  at  Cincinnati  five  days 
earlier,  and  before  Stuyvesant  had  read  half 
through  the  page  his  hand  was  trembling. 

"  Dear  Drayton,"  it  said,  "  I'm  in  a  snarl,  and  I  want  your  hdp. 
My  sister's  pet  boy  came  out  to  try  his  hand  at  ranching  near  us  last 
year.  He  had  some  money  from  his  father  and  everything  promised 
well  for  his  success  if  he  could  have  stuck  to  business.  But  he 
couldn't.  Billy  Ray,  commanding  my  first  squadron,  was  stationed 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  65 

with  me,  and  the  first  thing  I  knew  the  boy  was  head  over  ears  in 
love  with  Billy's  daughter.  I  can't  blame  him.  Marion,  junior,  is 
as  pretty  a  girl  as  ever  grew  up  in  the  army,  and  she's  a  brave  and 
winsome  lass  besides — her  Dad  all  over,  as  her  mother  says. 

"Walter's  ranch  was  thirty  miles  away,  but  he'd  ride  the  sixty 
six  times  a  week,  if  need  be,  to  have  a  dance  with  Maidie  Ray,  and 
the  cattle  could  go  to  the  wolves.  Then  came  the  war.  The  Gov 
ernor  of  Kentucky  gave  Ray  the  command  of  a  regiment,  and  that 
fool  boy  of  mine  begged  him  to  take  him  along.  Ray  couldn'  t. 
Besides,  I  don't  think  he  half  liked  Walter's  devotions  to  the  girl, 
though  he  hadn't  anything  against  him  exactly.  Then  I  was  re 
tired  and  sent  home,  and  the  next  thing  my  sister,  Mrs.  Foster,  came 
tearing  in  to  tell  me  Walter  had  gone  and  enlisted — enlisted  in  the 
regulars  at  Denver  and  was  going  to  'Frisco  and  Manila,  as  he 
couldn't  get  to  Cuba.  She's  completely  broke  up  about  it. 

"Foster  went  to  Washington  and  saw  the  President  and  got  a 
commission  for  him  in  the  signal  corps, — volunteers, — and  he  should  be 
with  you  by  the  time  you  get  this,  so  I  wired  ahead. 

"He  isn't  altogether  a  bad  lot,  but  lacks  horse  sense,  and  gave 
his  parents  a  good  deal  of  anxiety  in  his  varsity  days  abroad.  He 
was  in  several  scrapes  along  with  a  boon  companion  who  seems  to 
have  been  so  much  like  him,  physically  and  morally,  that,  mother- 
like,  Mrs.  Foster  is  sure  that  very  much  of  which  her  Walter  was 
accused  was  really  done  by  Wally's  chum.  I'm  not  so  sure  of  this 
myself,  but  at  all  events  Foster  made  it  a  condition  that  the  boy 
should  cut  loose  from  the  evil  association,  as  he  called  it,  before  cer 
tain  debts  would  be  paid.  I  don' t  know  what  soldier  stuff  there  is 
in  him — if  any — but  give  him  a  fair  start  for  old  times'  sake. 

"  I  need  not  tell  you  that  I  wish  you  all  the  joy  and  success  the 
double  stars  can  bring.  I'd  be  in  it  too  but  for  that  old  Spottsyl- 
vania  shot-hole  and  rheumatics.  My  eagles,  however,  will  fold  their 

5 


66  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

wings  and  take  a  rest,  but  we'  11  flap  '  em  and  scream  every  time  you 
make  a  ten-strike. 

"  Yours,  as  ever, 

"  MARTINDALE." 

Stuyvesant  did  not  look  up  at  once  after  finish 
ing  the  letter.  When  he  did,  and  before  he  could 
speak,  the  general  was  holding  out  some  telegrams, 
and  these  too  he  took  and  read — the  almost  ago 
nized  appeals  of  a  mother  for  news  of  her  boy — 
the  anxious  inquiries,  coupled  with  suggestions 
of  the  veteran  soldier  concerning  the  only  son  of 
a  beloved  sister.  Drayton's  fine,  thoughtful  face 
was  full  of  sympathy — his  eyes  clouded  with  anx 
iety  and  sorrow.  Martindale  was  not  the  only 
old  soldier  in  search  of  son  or  nephew  that  fateful 
summer. 

"  You  see  how  hard  it  is  to  be  able  to  send  no 
tidings  whatever,"  he  said.  "  I  sent  to  you  in  the 
hope  that  you  might  think  of  some  possible  ex 
planation,  might  suggest  some  clue  or  theory. 
Can  you  ?" 

There  was  just  one  moment  of  silence,  and  then 
again  Stuyvesant  looked  up,  his  blue  eyes  meeting 
the  anxious  gaze  of  the  commander. 

"  General,"  he  hazarded,  "  it  is  worth  while  to 
try  Sacramento.  Miss  Ray  is  there," 


CHAPTER    V. 

AT  sunset  that  evening  the  regiments  destined 
to  embark  with  the  expedition  commanded  by  Gen 
eral  Vinton  were  paraded  for  inspection  in  full 
marching  order,  while  a  dozen  other  commands 
less  fortunate  looked  enviously  on.  The  day  had 
been  raw  and  chilly.  The  wind  blew  salt  and 
strong,  sending  the  fog  in  dripping  clouds  sailing 
in  at  the  Golden  Gate,  obscuring  all  the  bold 
northern  shore,  and  streaming  up  the  sandy  slopes 
and  over  the  wide  wastes  south  of  Sutro  Heights. 
Men  who  owned  overcoats  were  few  and  far  be 
tween,  so  while  the  designated  battalions  stood 
and  shivered  in  the  wet  grass,  the  mass  of  spec 
tators  hovered  about  in  ponchos  or  wrapped  in 
blankets,  the  down-turned  brims  of  their  campaign 
hats  dripping  heavily  and  contributing  much  to 
the  weird  and  unmilitary  look  of  the  wearers. 
Officers  had  donned  Mackintoshes  and  heavy 
boots.  Badges  of  rank,  except  in  cases  of  those 
provided  with  the  regulation  overcoat,  were  lost 
to  sight.  Only  among  the  regulars  and  one  or 
two  regiments  made  up  from  the  National  Guard 

67 


68  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

were  uniforms  so  complete  that  in  their  foul- 
weather  garb  it  was  possible  to  distinguish  colonel 
from  subaltern,  staff  sergeant  from  private. 

In  front  of  the  guard-house  at  the  Presidio  a 
dozen  cavalrymen  armed  with  the  new  carbine  and 
dressed  throughout  for  winter  service,  this  being 
San  Francisco  June,  had  formed  ranks  under  com 
mand  of  a  sergeant  and  stood  silently  at  ease 
awaiting  the  coming  of  the  officer  of  the  day. 
The  accurate  fit  of  their  warm  overcoats,  the  cut 
of  their  trooper  trousers,  the  polish  of  their  brasses 
and  buttons,  the  snug,  trim  "  set"  of  their  belts,  all 
combined  to  tell  the  skilled  observer  that  these 
were  regulars 

As  such  they  were  objects  of  interest  and  close 
scrutiny  to  the  little  knots  of  volunteers  who  had 
sauntered  in  to  pick  up  points.  To  the  former  it 
looked  odd  and  out  of  gear  to  see  the  forage-caps 
and  broad  white  stripes  of  commissioned  officers 
mingling  with  the  slouch  hats  and  ill-fitting  nether 
garments  of  the  rank  and  file. 

It  was  too  early  in  the  campaign  for  "  the  boys" 
to  have  settled  down  to  realization  of  the  subtle 
distinction  between  their  status  as  soldiers  of  the 
Nation  and  citizens  of  a  sovereign  State.  To  private 
A  of  the  far  Westerners  his  company  commander 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  69 

was  still  "  Billy,  old  boy,"  or  at  best  "  Cap.,"  save 
when  actually  in  ranks  and  on  drill  or  parade. 

To  the  silently  observant  volunteer,  on  the  other 
hand,  it  was  just  as  odd  to  note  that  when  a  gray- 
haired  veteran  sergeant,  issuing  from  the  guard 
house,  caught  sight  of  a  trig,  alert  little  fellow,  with 
beardless  face  and  boyish  features  and  keen,  snap 
ping  dark  eyes,  hastening  towards  him  in  the  garb 
of  a  lieutenant  of  cavalry,  the  veteran  was  suddenly 
transformed  into  a  rigid  statue  in  light  blue,  stand 
ing  attention  and  at  the  salute — a  phenomenon 
that  extracted  from  the  infant  officer  only  a  per 
functory  touch  of  finger  to  cap  visor  and  not 
so  much  as  a  glance. 

How  could  the  "  boys"  from  far  Nebraska  be 
supposed  to  know  that  the  little  chap  had  spent  his 
whole  life  in  the  shadow  of  the  flag,  and  had  many 
a  time  in  baby  days  been  dandled  on  the  very  arm 
that  was  now  so  deferentially  bent  and  uplifted  in 
soldier  homage  ?  What  was  there  in  the  manner 
of  the  youngster  to  betray  the  fact  that  he  dreaded 
old  Sergeant  Rigney's  criticism  even  more  than 
that  of  his  commanding  officer? 

Then  came  another  phenomenon. 

At  a  brief,  curt  "  Sergeant,  get  out  your  prison 
ers,"  from  the  beardless  lips,  there  was  instant 


70  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

fumbling  of  big  keys  and  clanking  of  iron  from  the 
hidden  recesses  of  the  guard-house. 

The  dismounted  troopers  sprang  suddenly  to 
attention.  The  guard  split  in  two  at  its  middle, 
each  half  facing  outward,  marched  half  a  dozen 
paces  away  like  the  duellists  of  old  days  from  the 
back  to  back  position,  halted,  faced  front  once 
more,  and  stood  again  at  ease,  with  a  broad  gap  of 
a  dozen  paces  between  their  inner  flanks. 

Into  this  space,  shuffling  dejectedly  in  some 
cases,  stalking  defiantly  in  others,  slinking,  shiver 
ing,  and  decrepit  in  the  case  of  two  or  three  poor 
wrecks  of  the  rum  fiend,  a  stream  of  humanity  in 
soiled  soldier  garb  came  pouring  from  the  prison 
door  and  lined  up  under  the  eyes  of  vigilant  non 
commissioned  officers  in  front  of  the  young  lieu 
tenant  in  command. 

There  they  stood,  their  eyes  shifting  nervously 
from  group  to  group  of  huddling  spectators,  their 
shoulders  hunched  up  to  their  ears — the  riff-raff  of 
the  garrison — the  few  desperate,  dangerous  char 
acters  from  the  surrounding  camps,  an  uncouth, 
uncanny  lot  at  any  time,  but  looking  its  worst  in 
the  drip  of  the  floating  fog-wreaths  and  the  gloom 
and  despond  of  the  dying  day.  The  boom  of  the 
sunset  gun  from  Alcatraz  fell  sullenly  on  the  ear 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  71 

even  as  the  soft  trumpets  of  the  cavalry,  close  at 
hand,  began  sounding  the  "  Retreat."  At  its  last  pro 
longed  note  the  sharp  crack  of  an  old  three-inch 
rifle  echoed  the  report  from  Alcatraz,  and  from  the 
invisible,  mist-shrouded  top  of  the  staff  the  drip 
ping  folds  of  the  storm-flag  came  flapping  down 
in  view,  limp  and  bedraggled,  and  the  guard 
sprang  again  to  attention  as  a  burly,  red-faced, 
hearty-looking  soldier,  with  a  captain's  insignia 
in  loop  and  braid  on  the  sleeves  of  his  overcoat, 
broke  a  way  through  the  group  of  lookers-on  and, 
barely  waiting  for  the  salute  and  report  of  the 
young  lieutenant  commanding,  began  a  sharp 
scrutiny  of  the  prisoners  before  him. 

Down  along  the  line  he  went,  until  at  the  fourth 
man  from  the  left  in  the  front  rank  he  stopped 
short.  A  bulky,  thick-set  soldier  stood  there,  a 
sullen,  semi-defiant  look  about  his  eyes,  a  grim 
set  to  the  jaws  bristling  with  a  week-old  beard 
of  dirty  black.  Then  came  the  snapping  colloquy. 

"  Your  name  Murray  ?" 

"  That's  what  they  call  me." 

"  What  was  your  name  before  that  ?" 

"Jim." 

Whereat  there  was  a  titter  in  the  ranks  of  pris 
oners.  Some  of  the  guard  even  allowed  their 


72  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

mouths  to  expand,  and  the  groups  of  volunteers, 
chuckling  in  keen  enjoyment,  came  edging  in 
closer. 

Instantly  the  voice  of  the  officer  of  the  guard 
was  heard  ordering  silence,  and  faces  straightened 
out  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye. 

The  elder  officer,  the  captain,  grew  a  trifle 
redder,  but  he  was  master  of  himself  and  the 
situation.  It  is  with  school-boys  as  with  soldiers, 
their  master  is  the  man  whom  pranks  or  impu 
dence  cannot  annoy.  The  officer  of  the  day  let 
no  tone  of  temper  into  his  next  question.  Look 
ing  straight  into  the  shifting  eyes,  he  waited  for 
perfect  silence,  and  then  spoke : 

"  Jim  what  ?  I  wish  the  name  under  which  you 
served  in  your  previous  enlistment." 

"  Never  said  I'd  served  before." 

"  No.  You  declared  you  had  not.  But  I  know 
better.  You're  a  deserter  from  the  Seventh 
Cavalry." 

The  face  under  the  shrouding  campaign  hat 
went  gray  white  with  sudden  twitch  of  the  mus 
cles,  then  set  again,  rigid  and  defiant.  The 
eyes  snapped  angrily.  The  answer  was  sharp, 
yet  seemed,  as  soldiers  say,  to  "  hang  fire"  a 
second. 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  73 

"  Never  seen  the  Seventh  Cavalry  in  my  life." 

The  officer  of  the  day  turned  and  beckoned  to 
a  figure  hitherto  kept  well  in  the  background, 
screened  by  the  groups  of  surrounding  volunteers. 
A  man  of  middle  age,  smooth  shaven  'and  stout, 
dressed  in  business  sack-suit,  came  sturdily  for 
ward  and  took  position  by  the  captain's  side. 

At  sight  of  the  new-comer  Murray's  face,  that 
had  regained  a  bit  of  its  ruddy  hue,  again  turned 
dirty  white,  and  the  boy  lieutenant,  eying  him 
closely,  saw  the  twitch  of  his  thin,  half-hidden 
lips. 

"  Point  out  your  man,"  said  the  captain  to  the 
new  arrival. 

The  civilian  stepped  forward,  and  without  a 
word  twice  tapped  with  his  forefinger  the  broad 
breast  of  Prisoner  Murray  and,  never  looking  at 
him,  turned  again  to  the  officer  of  the  day. 

"What  was  his  name  in  the  Seventh?"  asked 
the  latter. 

"  Sackett." 

The  captain  turned  to  the  officer  of  the  guard. 
"  Mr.  Ray,"  said  he,  "  separate  Murray  from  the 
garrison  prisoners  and  have  him  put  in  a  cell. 
That  man  must  be  carefully  guarded.  You  may 
dismiss  the  guard,  sir." 


74  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

And,  followed  by  the  stranger,  Captain  Kress 
was  leaving  the  ground  when  Murray  seemed  to 
recover  himself,  and  in  loud  and  defiant  voice  gave 
tongue, — 

"  That  man's  a  damned  liar,  and  this  is  an  out 
rage." 

"  Shut  up,  Murray !"  shouted  the  sergeant  of  the 
guard,  scandalized  at  such  violation  of  military 
proprieties.  "  It's  gagged  you'll  be,  you  idiot," 
he  added  between  his  set  teeth,  as  with  scowling 
face  he  bore  down  on  the  equally  scowling  pris 
oner.  "  Come  out  of  that  and  step  along  here 
ahead  of  me.  I'll  put  you  where  shoutin'  won't 
help."  And  slowly,  sullenly,  Murray  obeyed. 

Slowly  and  in  silence  the  groups  of  spectators 
broke  up  and  sauntered  away  as  the  last  of  the 
prisoners  dragged  back  into  the  guard-house,  and 
the  guard  itself  broke  ranks  and  went  within 
doors,  leaving  only  the  sentry  pacing  mechanically 
the  narrow,  hard-beaten  path,  the  sergeant,  and 
at  the  turn  of  the  road,  the  young  lieutenant 
whom  Captain  Kress  had  addressed  as  Mr.  Ray. 
This  officer,  having  silently  received  his  superior's 
orders  and  seen  to  it  that  Murray  was  actually 
"  behind  the  bars,"  had  again  come  forth  into  the 
gathering  twilight,  the  gloaming  of  a  cheerless 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  75 

day,  and  having  hastened  to  the  bend  from  which 
point  the  forms  of  the  officer  of  the  day  and  his 
associate  were  still  faintly  visible,  stood  gazing  after 
them,  a  puzzled  look  in  his  brave  young  face. 

Not  yet  a  month  in  possession  of  his  commis 
sion,  here  was  a  lad  to  whom  every  iota  of  the 
routine  of  a  lieutenant's  life  was  as  familiar  as 
though  he  had  drawn  the  pay  for  a  decade. 

Born  and  bred  in  the  army,  taught  from  early 
boyhood  to  ride  and  shoot,  to  spar  and  swim, 
spending  his  vacation  in  saddle  and  his  school 
days  in  unwilling  study,  an  adept  in  every  health 
ful  and  exhilarating  sport,  keen  with  rifle  and 
revolver,  with  shotgun  and  rod,  with  bat  and 
racquet,  with  the  gloves  and  Indian  clubs,  the 
nimblest  quarter-back  and  dodger,  the  swiftest 
runner  of  his  school,  it  must  be  owned  that  Mr. 
Sanford  Ray  was  a  most  indifferent  scholar.  Of 
geography,  history,  and  languages  he  had  rather 
more  than  a  smattering  because  of  occasional 
tours  abroad  when  still  at  an  impressionable  age. 
Yet  Sandy  "  took  more  stock,"  as  he  expressed  it, 
and  "  stawk,"  as  he  called  it,  in  Sioux  and  the  sign 
language  than  he  did  in  French  or  German,  knew 
far  more  of  the  Rockies  and  Sierras  than  he  did  of 
the  Alps,  studied  the  European  cavalry  with  the 


76  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

eye  of  an  accomplished  critic,  and  stoutly  main 
tained  that  while  they  were  bigger  swells  and 
prettier  to  look  at,  they  could  neither  ride  nor 
shoot  to  compare  with  the  sturdy  troopers  of  his 
father's  squadron. 

"  As  to  uniforms,"  said  Sandy,  "  anybody  could 
look  swagger  in  the  lancer  and  huzzar  rig.  It 
takes  a  man  to  look  like  a  soldier  in  what  our 
fellows  have  to  wear." 

It  wasn't  the  field  garb  Sandy  despised,  but  the 
full  dress,  the  blue  and  yellow  enormity  in  which 
our  troopers  are  compelled  to  appear. 

It  had  been  the  faint  hope  of  his  fond  parents 
that  Master  Sandy  would  grow  up  to  be  some 
thing,  by  which  was  meant  a  lawyer,  an  artist, 
architect,  engineer, — something  in  civil  life  that 
promised  home  and  fortune.  But  the  lad  from 
babyhood  would  think  of  nothing  but  the  army 
and  with  much  misgiving,  in  Sandy's  fifteenth  year, 
his  father  shipped  him  to  Kentucky,  where  they 
were  less  at  home  than  in  Kansas,  and  gave  him  a 
year's  hard  schooling  in  hopes  of  bracing  up  his 
mathematics. 

Sandy  was  wild  to  go  to  West  Point,  and  at  the 
bottom  of  his  heart  Major  Ray  would  have  re 
joiced  had  he  thought  it  possible  for  Sandy  to 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  77 

pull  through;  but  ruefully  he  minded  him  how 
hard  a  task  was  his  own,  and  how  close  he  came 
to  failure  at  the  semi-annual  exams.  "Sandy 
hates  Math,  even  more  than  I  did,"  said  he  to 
Marion,  his  devoted  wife.  "  It  was  all  I  could  do 
to  squirm  through  when  the  course  was  nowhere 
near  as  hard  as  it  is  to-day,  so  don't  set  your  heart 
on  it,  little  woman." 

The  appointment  was  not  so  hard  to  get,  for 
Major  'Billy  had  a  host  of  friends  in  his  native 
State,  and  an  old  chum  at  the  Point  assured  him 
he  could  coach  young  Sandy  through  the  prelimi 
nary,  and  indeed  he  did.  Sandy  scraped  in  after 
six  months'  vigorous  work,  managed  to  hold  his 
own  through  the  first  year's  tussle  with  algebra 
and  geometry,  which  he  had  studied  hard  and 
faithfully  before,  was  a  pet  in  his  class,  and  the 
pride  and  joy  of  his  mother's  and  sister's  heart  in 
yearling  camp,  where  he  blossomed  out  in  cor 
poral's  chevrons  and  made  as  natty  and  active  a 
first  sergeant  as  could  be  found  while  the  "  furlough 
class"  was  away. 

But  the  misery  began  with  "  analytical"  and  the 
crisis  came  with  calculus,  and  to  the  boy's  bitter 
sorrow,  after  having  been  turned  back  one  year  on 
the  former  and  failing  utterly  on  the  latter,  the 


78  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

verdict  of  the  Academic  Board  went  dead  against 
him,  and  stout  old  soldiers  thereon  cast  their  votes 
with  grieving  hearts,  for  "  Billy  Ray's  Boy"  was  a 
lad  they  hated  to  let  go,  but  West  Point  rules  are 
inexorable. 

So  too  were  there  saddened  hearts  far  out  on  the 
frontier  where  the  major  was  commanding  a  cavalry 
post  in  a  busy  summer,  but  neither  he  nor  Marion 
had  one  word  of  blame  or  reproach  for  the  boy. 
Loving  arms,  and  eyes  that  smiled  through  their 
sorrow,  welcomed  him  when  the  little  chap  re 
turned  to  them.  "  Don't  anybody  come  to  meet 
me,"  he  wrote.  "  Just  let  mother  be  home."  And 
so  it  was  settled. 

He  sprang  from  the  wagon  that  met  him  at  the 
station,  went  hand  in  hand  with  his  father  into 
the  hall,  and  then,  with  one  sob,  bounded  into 
Marion's  outstretched  arms  as  she  stood  awaiting 
him  in  the  little  army  parlor. 

The  major  softly  closed  the  door  and  with  blink 
ing  eyes  stole  away  to  stables.  There  had  been 
another  meeting  a  little  later  when  Marion  the 
second  was  admitted,  and  the  girl  stole  silently  to 
her  brother's  side  and  her  arms  twined  about  his 
neck.  Her  love  for  him  had  been  something  like 
adoration  through  all  the  years  of  girlhood,  and 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  79 

now,  though  he  was  twenty  and  she  eighteen,  its 
fervor  seemed  to  know  no  diminution.  They  had 
done  their  best,  all  of  them,  to  encourage  while 
the  struggle  lasted,  but  to  teach  him  that  should 
failure  come,  it  would  come  without  reproach  or 
shame. 

The  path  to  success  in  other  fields  was  still 
before  him.  The  road  to  the  blessed  refuge  of 
home  and  love  and  sympathy  would  never  close. 

It  was  hard  to  reconcile  the  lad  at  first.  The 
major  set  him  up  as  a  young  ranchman  in  a  lovely 
valley  in  the  Big  Horn  Range,  and  there  he  went 
sturdily  to  work,  but  before  the  winter  was  fairly 
on  the  country  was  rousing  to  the  appeals  of  Cuba, 
and  before  it  was  gone  the  Maine  had  sunk,  a  rid 
dled  hulk,  and  the  spring  came  in  with  a  call  to 
arms. 

Together  with  some  two  hundred  young  fellows 
all  over  the  land,  Sanford  Ray  went  up  for  ex 
amination  for  the  vacant  second  lieutenancies  in 
the  army,  and  he  who  had  failed  in  analytical  and 
calculus  passed  without  grave  trouble  the  more 
practical  ordeal  demanded  by  the  War  Depart 
ment,  was  speedily  commissioned  in  the  artillery, 
and,  to  his  glory  and  delight,  promptly  transferred 
to  the  cavalry. 


8o      ^  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

Then  came  the  first  general  break  up  the  family 
had  really  known,  for  the  major  hurried  away  to 
Kentucky  to  assume  command  of  the  regiment  of 
volunteers  of  which  he  had  been  made  colonel. 
Billy,  junior,  a  lad  of  barely  seventeen,  enlisted  at 
Lexington  as  a  bugler  in  his  father's  regiment,  and 
swore  he'd  shoot  himself  if  they  didn't  let  him 
serve.  The  Kentuckians  were  ordered  to  Chicka- 
mauga,  the  young  regular  to  the  Presidio  at  San 
Francisco,  and  Mrs.  Ray,  after  seeing  her  husband 
and  youngest  son  started  for  the  South,  returned 
to  Leavenworth,  where  they  had  just  settled  down 
a  week  before  the  war  began,  packed  and  stored 
the  household  furniture,  then,  taking  "  Maidie" 
with  her,  hurried  westward  to  see  the  last  of  her 
boy,  whose  squadron  was  destined  for  service  at 
Manila. 

The  lieutenant,  as  they  delighted  in  calling  him, 
joined  them  at  Denver,  looking  perfectly  at  home 
in  his  field  uniform  and  perfectly  happy.  They 
left  Maidie  to  spend  a  week  with  old  army  friends 
at  Fort  Douglas,  and  as  soon  as  Sandy  was  settled 
in  his  new  duties  and  the  loving  mother  had  satis 
fied  herself  the  cavalry  would  not  be  spirited  away 
before  July,  she  accepted  the  eager  invitation  of 
other  old  friends  to  visit  them  at  Sacramento,  and 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  81 

there  they  were,  mother  and  daughter,  again 
united  this  very  raw  and  foggy  evening,  when  Mr. 
Ray,  as  officer  of  the  guard,  stood  at  the  bend  of 
the  roadway  east  of  the  Presidio  guard-house, 
gazing  after  the  vanishing  forms  of  Captain  Kress 
and  the  burly  stranger  in  civilian  clothes,  and 
wondering  where  on  earth  it  was  he  had  seen  the 
latter  before. 

So  engrossed  was  he  in  this  that  it  was  only 
when  a  second  time  addressed  that  he  whirled 
about  and  found  himself  confronting  a  tall  and 
slender  young  officer,  with  frank,  handsome  blue 
eyes  and  fine,  clear-cut  face,  a  man  perhaps  five 
years  his  senior  in  age  and  one  grade  in  rank,  for  his 
overcoat  sleeve  bore  the  single  loop  and  braid  of 
a  first  lieutenant. 

He  was  in  riding  boots  and  spurs,  as  Ray  noted 
at  first  glance,  and  there  behind  him  stood  an 
orderly  holding  the  horses  of  both. 

"  Pardon  me.  I  am  Lieutenant  Stuyvesant  of 
General  Vinton's  staff.  This  is  the  officer  of  the 
guard,  I  believe,  and  I  am  sent  to  make  some  in 
quiry  of  a  prisoner — a  man  named  Murray." 

"  We  have  such  a  man,"  said  Ray,  eying  the 
newcomer  with  soldierly  appreciation  of  his  gen 
eral  appearance  and  not  without  envy  of  his  inches. 

6 


82  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

"  But  he's  just  been  locked  in  a  cell,  and  it  will 
take  an  order  from  the  officer  of  the  day  to  fetch 
him  out — unless  you  could  see  him  in  there  with 
other  prisoners  within  earshot." 

"  Not  very  well,"  answered  Stuyvesant,  looking 
curiously  into  the  dark  eyes  of  the  youngster. 
"  Perhaps  I'd  better  see  the  officer  of  the  day  at 
once." 

"You'll  find  him  at  the  club.  He's  just  gone 
in,"  said  Ray,  mindful  of  the  fact  that  this  was  the 
captain's  time  for  a  cocktail,  and  with  a  courteous 
salute  the  aide-de-camp  hastened  away. 

In  five  minutes  he  was  back  with  a  pencilled 
scrawl  from  Kress  to  the  effect  that  Lieutenant 
Stuyvesant  was  to  be  permitted  to  interview  the 
prisoner  Murray  outside  the  guard-house,  but 
sentries  must  be  placed  to  prevent  escape. 

Quickly  young  Ray  called  out  the  corporal  and 
two  men,  warned  them  of  the  duty  demanded, 
stationed  them  up  and  down  the  road  and  opposite 
the  guard-house,  but  just  out  of  ear-shot,  ordered 
the  prisoner  brought  forth,  and  then,  leaving  Stuy 
vesant  standing  at  the  post  of  Number  One, 
stepped  a  dozen  yards  away  into  the  mist. 

A  minute  later  out  came  the  sergeant,  mar 
shalling  Murray  after  him,  a  sentry  at  his  heels. 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  83 

Then  in  the  gathering  darkness  the  tall  officer  and 
the  short,  thick-set  soldier  met  face  to  face,  and  the 
latter  recoiled  and  began  glancing  quickly,  fur 
tively  about  him. 

Just  how  it  all  happened  Ray  could  never  quite 
tell.  The  light  was  now  feeble,  the  lamps  were 
only  just  beginning  to  burn.  There  was  a  moment 
of  low-toned  talk  between  the  two,  a  question 
twice  repeated  in  firmer  tone,  then  a  sudden,  des 
perate  spring  and  dash  for  liberty. 

Like  a  centre  rush — a  charging  bull — the  prisoner 
came  head  on  straight  to  where  young  Ray  was 
standing,  heedless  of  a  yell  to  halt,  and  in  less  time 
than  it  takes  to  tell  it,  the  lithe  little  athlete  of 
West  Point's  crack  football  team  had  sprung  and 
tackled  and  downed  him  in  his  tracks. 

Biting,  cursing,  straining,  the  big  bully  lay  in  the 
mud,  overpowered  now  by  the  instant  dash  of  the 
guard,  while  their  bantam  officer,  rising  and  dis 
gustedly  contemplating  the  smear  of  wet  soil  over 
his  new  overcoat,  was  presently  aware  of  Stuyve- 
sant,  bending  forward,  extending  a  helping  hand, 
and  exclaiming : 

"By  Jove,  but  that  was  a  neat  tackle!  You 
must  have  been  a  joy  to  your  team.  What  was 
it?" 


84  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

"  West  Point— last  year's." 

"  And  may  I  ask — the  name  ?" 

"  My  name's  Ray,"  said  Sandy  with  beaming 
smile,  showing  a  row  of  even,  white  teeth  under 
the  budding,  dark  mustache,  and  Stuyvesant  felt 
the  warm  blood  surging  to  his  forehead,  just  as  it 
had  before  that  day  in  the  general's  tent. 

"  I  think  I  should  have  known  that,"  he  pres 
ently  stammered.  "  It  was  Miss  Ray  who  so  skil 
fully  treated  those  poor  fellows  burned  out  on  our 
train.  I  suppose  you  heard  of  it." 

"  Why,  yes,"  answered  the  youngster,  again  curi 
ously  studying  the  face  of  his  tall  visitor.  "  Then 
it  was  you  she — I  heard  about.  Wish  I  weren't  on 
duty.  I'd  be  glad  to  have  you  over  at  my  quarters 
or  the  club." 

"  I  wish  so  too,  and  yet  I'm  lucky  in  finding  you 
here,  since" — and  here  Stuyvesant  turned  and 
looked  resentfully  towards  the  bedraggled  figure 
of  Murray,  now  being  supported  back  to  the  cells 
— "  since  that  fellow  proved  so  churlish  and  un 
grateful.  He's  all  wrath  at  being  put  behind  the 
bars  and  won't  answer  any  questions." 

"What  else  could  he  expect?"  asked  Ray 
bluntly.  "  He's  a  deserter." 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  85 

"  A  deserter !"  exclaimed  Stuyvesant  in  surprise. 
"  Who  says  so  ?" 

"  Captain  Kress,  officer  of  the  day,  or  at  least  a 
cit  who  came  with  him  to  identify  him.  They  say 
he  skipped  from  the  Seventh  Cavalry." 

At  this  piece  of  information  Mr.  Stuyvesant 
whirled  about  again  in  added  astonishment. 
"  Why,"  said  he,  "  this  upsets — one  theory  com 
pletely.  I  declare,  if  that's  true  we're  all  at  sea. 
I  beg  pardon,"  he  continued,  but  now  with  marked 
hesitancy — "you  know — you've  heard,  I  suppose, 
about— Foster  ?" 

"What  Foster?" 

"  Why,  the  recruit,  you  know,  the  one  we  lost  at 
Port  Costa,"  and  the  blue  eyes  were  curiously 
and  intently  studying  the  face  of  the  younger 
soldier,  dimly  visible  now  that  the  guard-house 
lamps  were  beginning  to  glow. 

"  I  knew  there  was  a  recruit  missing,  and — seems 
to  me  that  was  the  name,"  answered  Ray. 

"And — didn't  you  know  who  he  was — that  it 
was — pardon  me,  the  man  who — lived  near  you — 
had  a  ranch " 

"  Great  Scott !  You  don't  mean  Wally  Foster ! 

He  enlisted  and  in  the  cavalry  ?  Well,  I'm " 

And  now  Mr.  Ray's  merriment  overcame  him.  "  I 


86  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

never  thought  there  was  that  much  to  Wally.  He 
was  a  lackadaisical  sort  of  a  spook  when  I  saw 
him.  What  possessed  him  to  enlist  ?  He's  no 
stuff  for  a  soldier." 

Stuyvesant  hesitated.  That  letter  of  old  Colo 
nel  Martindale's  was  shown  him  in  confidence. 
But  Ray's  next  impetuous  outburst  settled  it. 

"  Oh,  by  Jove !  I  see  it,— it's "  And  here  the 

white  teeth  gleamed  in  the  lamplight,  for  Mr.  Ray 
was  laughing  heartily. 

"Yes?  It's  what?"  smiled  Stuyvesant  sympa 
thetically. 

"  It's — my  sister,  I  reckon,"  laughed  Ray.  "  She 
once  said  she  wouldn't  marry  outside  of  the  army, 
and  he  heard  it." 

"  Oh, — did  she  ?"  said  Stuyvesant  reflectively,  and 
then  he  was  silent. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

WHEN  Vinton's  flotilla  drew  out  into  that  won 
derful  bay,  and  the  crowded  transports  rode  at 
anchor  on  the  tide,  there  came  swarming  about 
them  all  manner  of  harbor  craft,  some  laden  with 
comforts  for  the  departing  soldiery,  some  with 
curiosity  seekers,  some  with  contraband  of  war  in 
the  shape  of  fruit  and  fluids,  but  all  were  warned 
to  keep  a  cable's  length  at  least  away. 

The  commanding  general,  with  other  officers  of 
rank,  was  darting  from  ship  to  ship  in  a  swift  steam 
launch,  holding  brief  conference  with  the  colonel 
in  command  of  each,  and  finally  repairing  to  his 
own — the  flagship — where  the  final  adieux  were 
exchanged. 

The  general  and  his  aids  nimbly  mounted  the 
steep  stairway  to  the  bridge,  the  launch  swung 
loose,  and  then  up  to  the  mast-head  flew  a  little 
bunch  of  bunting  that  broke  as  it  reached  the 
truck,  and  there  fluttered  in  the  strong  salt  wind 
whistling  in  from  sea  the  eagerly  awaited  signal 
to  "  up  anchor  and  follow." 

And  then  at  the  stern  of  the  Vanguard  the 

87 


88  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

waves  were  churned  into  foam  as  the  massive 
screw  began  its  spin,  and  slowly,  steadily  the  flag 
ship  forged  ahead  to  the  accompaniment  of  a  deaf 
ening  din  of  steam  whistles  and  sirens  all  over  the 
bay.  Promptly  the  other  transports  followed  the 
movements  of  the  leader,  and  presently,  in  trailing 
column,  five  big  black  steamships,  thronged  with 
cheering  soldiery,  were  slowly  ploughing  their  way 
towards  the  grand  entrance  of  that  spacious  har 
bor,  the  matchless  Golden  Gate. 

Coming  abreast  of  rock-ribbed  Alcatraz,  still 
moving  at  less  than  half  speed,  the  flagship  was 
greeted  by  the  thunder  of  the  parting  salute,  and 
the  commanding  general,  standing  with  his  staff" 
upon  the  bridge,  doffed  his  cap  and  bared  his  hand 
some  head  in  acknowledgment. 

"  The  next  guns  we're  apt  to  hear  will  be  the 
Spaniard's  at  Manila,  and  shotted  guns  instead  of 
blanks,"  said  a  staff  officer  to  the  tall,  fair-haired 
aide-de-camp.  "  What's  the  matter,  Stuyvesant  ? 
Beginning  to  feel  wabbly  already  ?  There's  no  sea 
here  to  speak  of." 

"  I  was  watching  that  boat,"  was  the  quiet  reply, 
as  the  young  officer  pointed  to  a  small  white 
steamer  that  appeared  coming  in  pursuit,  carefully 
picking  a  way  through  the  host  of  harbor  craft 


A    STORY   OF   MANILA  89 

still  screeching  and  steaming  along  as  escort  to  the 
fleet. 

There  was  an  eager  light  in  the  bright  blue  eyes, 
but  the  high  color  had  fled.  Stuyvesant  looked 
as  though  he  had  not  slept  as  much  or  as  well  of 
late  as  perfect  health  required,  and  his  questioner 
gazed  keenly  into  his  face,  then  turned  away  with  a 
smile. 

Only  three  days  before,  on  the  register  of  the 
Occidental  appeared  among  the  arrivals  the  entry 
"Mrs.  William  P.  Ray,  Miss  Ray,  Fort  Leaven- 
worth/'  and  that  evening  at  least  a  dozen  officers 
called  and  sent  up  their  cards,  and  Lieutenant  Ray 
came  in  from  the  Presidio  and  was  with  his  mother 
and  sister  an  hour  or  more. 

The  ladies  held  quite  a  little  levee  in  the  parlor 
of  the  familiar  old  army  hostelry,  and  Mr.  Stuyve 
sant,  after  a  long  and  fatiguing  day's  duty  at  camp, 
accompanied  his  general  to  their  very  handsome 
apartments  at  The  Palace,  and  then  falteringly  asked 
if  he  might  be  excused  awhile — he  had  a  call  or 
two  to  make. 

The  evening  papers  had  announced  the  arrival 
of  the  wife  and  daughter  of  "  the  gallant  officer  so 
well  known  for  quarter  of  a  century  gone  by  to 
many  of  our  citizens — Captain  '  Billy'  Ray,  now 


90  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

colonel  of  the  — th  Kentucky,"  and  Stuyvesant 
had  determined  to  make  an  effort  to  meet  them. 
But  he  was  a  stranger  to  the  officers  who  called 
and  sent  up  their  cards — all  old  regulars. 

Lieutenant  Ray  was  with  the  party  in  the  parlor, 
and  Stuyvesant  felt  a  strange  shyness  when  striving 
to  persuade  himself  to  send  his  card  to  that  young 
officer  and  boldly  ask  to  be  presented.  Surely 
it  was  the  proper  thing  to  seek  and  meet  her  and 
thank  her  for  her  deft  ministrations  the  night  of 
the  fire.  Surely  a  man  of  his  distinguished  family 
and  connections  need  not  shrink  from  asking  to  be 
introduced  to  any  household  in  all  our  broad 
domain,  and  yet  Stuyvesant  found  himself  nervous 
and  hesitant,  wandering  about  the  crowded  office, 
making  pretense  of  interest  in  posters  and  pictures, 
wistfully  regarding  the  jovial  knots  of  regulars  who 
seemed  so  thoroughly  at  home. 

Over  at  The  Palace,  where  so  many  of  the  gen 
eral  officers  and  their  staffs  were  quartered,  he  had 
dozens  of  friends.  Here  at  this  favorite  old  resort 
of  the  regular  service  he  stood  alone,  and  to  his 
proud  and  sensitive  spirit  it  seemed  as  though 
there  were  a  barrier  between  him  and  these  pro 
fessional  soldiers. 

There  was  the  whole  secret  of  his  trouble.     Ab- 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  91 

surd  and  trivial  as  it  may  seem,  Stuyvesant  shrank 
from  the  enterprise,  even  at  the  very  threshold, — 
shrank  even  from  sending  his  card  and  asking  for 
Lieutenant  Ray,  for  no  other  or  better  reason  than 
that  he  did  not  know  how  a  volunteer  would  be 
welcomed. 

And  so  for  nearly  half  an  hour  he  hovered  irres 
olute  about  the  office,  unconscious  of  the  many 
glances  of  interest  and  admiration  from  the  keen 
eyes  of  the  officers  gathered  in  laughing  groups 
about  the  marbled  floor.  Not  one  of  their  number 
was  his  superior  in  form  and  feature,  and  his  uni 
form  was  the  handiwork  of  Gotham's  best  military 
tailor.  They  saw  that  the  instant  he  threw  off  his 
cape. 

One  of  their  number  whispered  that  it  was  Mr. 
Stuyvesant,  General  Vinton's  aide,  for  everybody 
knew  Vinton,  and  more  than  one  would  have  been 
glad  to  take  the  aide-de-camp  by  the  hand  and  bid 
him  welcome  to  their  coterie  but  for  that  same  odd 
shyness  that,  once  away  from  camp  or  garrison 
and  in  the  atmosphere  of  metropolitan  life,  seems 
to  clog  and  hamper  the  kindlier  impulses  of  the 
soldier. 

Presently,  as  Stuyvesant  stood  at  the  desk  look 
ing  over  the  register,  he  heard  himself  accosted  by 


92  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

name,  and  turning  quickly,  hopefully,  found  to  his 
disappointment  only  a  stocky  little  man  in  civilian 
dress.  Yet  the  face  was  familiar,  and  the  trouble 
in  the  honest  brown  eyes  looking  up  to  him,  as 
though  for  help  and  sympathy,  went  right  to  his 
heart.  Even  before  the  man  could  give  his  name 
or  tell  his  need,  Stuyvesant  knew  him  and  held  out 
a  cordial  hand : 

"  Why  !  You're  our  brakeman  !  I'm  glad  to 
see  you.  What's  wrong  ?" 

"  I've  lost  me  job,  sir,"  was  the  answer,  with  a 
little  choke.  "  They  let  me  out  two  days  ago — for 
sayin'  their  rotten  old  car  caught  fire  from  the 
boxes,  I  reckon." 

"  You  don't  tell  me !"  exclaimed  Stuyvesant  in 
honest  indignation.  "  Now,  how  can  I  help  you  ? 
What  shall  we  do  ?" 

"  Take  me  to  Manila,  sir.  I  don't  need  this 
place.  There's  no  one  dependent  on  me — I  can't 
soldier.  They  wont  'list  a  fellow  with  only  two 
fingers,"  and  he  held  up  a  maimed  hand.  "  Lost 
the  others  in  a  freight  smash-up  six  years  ago. 
But  there's  a  railway  out  there  that'll  be  ours  in 
a  few  months.  Then  you'll  want  Yankee  train- 
hands.  Can  you  do  that  much  for  me,  lieutenant  ?" 

"  Come  to  me  at  The  Palace  at  eight  o'clock  in 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  93 

the  morning,"  answered  Stuyvesant.  "  I'll  have 
had  a  chance  to  talk  to  my  general  by  that  time. 
Meanwhile" — and  with  a  blush  he  began  drawing 
forth  his  purse. 

The  brakeman  smiled.  "  I've  got  money  enough, 
sir.  They  paid  me  off  and  I  had  some  put  by. 
Thank  you  all  the  same,  Mr.  Stuyvesant. — Oh,  yes, 
sir,  I'm  ready,"  he  broke  off  suddenly  in  address 
ing  some  other  person,  and  Stuyvesant,  turning 
quickly  to  see,  was  confronted  by  Lieutenant 
Ray. 

"  Oh,  how-de-do  ?  Going  to  be  here  long  ?" 
promptly  queried  that  young  gentleman.  "  Haven't 
seen  you  since  the  night  at  the  Presidio.  'Scuse 
me,  will  you,  I've  got  to  take — er — my  sister  wants 
to  see  the  brakeman,  you  know. — With  you  the 
night  of  the  fire."  And  with  that  Mr.  Ray  hopped 
briskly  away  to  the  elevator,  the  ex-trainman  fol 
lowing,  leaving  Stuyvesant  standing  enviously  at 
the  counter. 

Even  a  brakeman  could  go  to  her  and  hear 
her  pleasant  words  and  receive  that  beaming  smile 
and  perhaps  a  clasp  of  that  cool,  slender  little 
hand,  while  he  who  so  longed  for  it  all  stood  with 
out  the  pale. 

Then  an  impulse  that  had  been  spurring  him  for 


94  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

half  an  hour  overmastered  him.  The  parlors  were 
public.  At  least  he  could  go  and  take  a  peep  at 
her. 

He  started  for  the  elevator,  then  changed  his 
plan,  turned,  and,  with  his  cape  still  thrown  over 
his  arm,  ascended  the  stairs.  The  clerk  at  the 
office  desk  glanced  curiously  at  him,  but  the  uni 
form  was  sufficient.  In  a  moment  he  found  him 
self  in  the  broad  corridor  and  almost  in  front  of 
the  door-way  to  the  parlor.  Half  a  dozen  groups, 
women  and  officers,  were  scattered  about  in  merry 
conversation,  but  Stuyvesant's  eyes  were  riveted 
instantly  on  a  little  party  close  by  the  elevator 
shaft.  There,  hat  in  hand,  bowing  and  blushing, 
stood  the  brakeman.  There,  with  a  bright,  genial 
smile  on  her  serene  and  happy  face,  stood  a  ma 
tronly  woman  who,  despite  her  soft  blue  eyes  and 
fair  hair  and  complexion,  was  patent  at  once  as  the 
mother  of  the  lovely,  dark-eyed  girl  and  the  trim 
young  soldier  who  formed  the  other  members  of 
the  group. 

Three  or  four  officers,  some  of  them  past  the 
meridian,  others  young  subalterns,  stood  looking 
on  in  evident  interest,  and  Stuyvesant  halted  spell 
bound,  not  knowing  just  what  to  do. 

It  was  over   in   a   moment.      The   railwayman, 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  95 

confused  but  happy,  had  evidently  been  the  re 
cipient  of  kind  and  appreciative  words,  for  his  face 
was  glowing,  and  Miss  Ray's  fairly  beamed  with 
the  radiance  of  its  smile.  Then  the  door  flew 
open  as  the  elevator-car  stopped  for  passengers, 
and  the  ex-brakeman  backed  in  and  disappeared 
from  view.  Then  the  mother  twined  an  arm  about 
her  daughter's  slender  waist  and  two  young  offi 
cers  sprang  forward  to  her  side.  Together  they 
came  sauntering  towards  the  parlor  door,  and  then, 
all  on  a  sudden,  she  looked  up  and  saw  him. 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  flash  of  instant 
recognition  in  her  beautiful  eyes.  Stuyvesant's 
heart  leaped  as  his  eager  gaze  met  the  swift  glance, 
and  noted  with  joy  that  she  certainly  saw  and 
knew  him :  more  than  that,  that  the  sight  gave 
her  pleasure.  But  in  another  instant  she  had  re 
covered  herself,  and  turned  to  ask  some  quick 
question  of  the  young  gallant  at  her  side,  and 
Stuyvesant,  who  was  almost  at  the  point  of  bowing 
low,  found  himself  savagely  hating  those  yellow 
straps  and  stripes  and  wishing  the  cavalry  in  per 
dition.  Somebody  was  speaking  to  Mr.  Ray,  and 
he  couldn't  catch  that  young  officer's  eye.  The 
party  stopped  a  moment  at  the  threshold,  one  of 
the  officers  was  saying  good-night,  and  then  a 


96  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

voice  at  Stuyvesant's  elbow  said  "  Which  is  Lieu 
tenant  Ray?"  It  was  the  bell-boy. 

A  sudden  inspiration  came  to  Stuyvesant. 
"  What  is  it  ?"  he  said.  "  Have  you  a  message 
for  him  ?" 

"Yes,"  was  the  answer.  "They're  telephoning 
for  him  from  the  Presidio, — want  him  to  come  at 
once." 

"  Tell  me  the  whole  message  and  I'll  give  it," 
said  Stuyvesant.  "  Anything  wrong  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir.  The  clerk's  at  the  'phone  now,  but  I 
couldn't  get  the  trouble.  Something's  broke  loose, 
as  I  understand  it." 

And  that  delay  was  fatal.  Bounding  up  the 
steps,  three  at  a  stride,  came  a  young  officer, 
breathless,  and  made  straight  for  the  group.  See 
ing  that  Mrs.  Ray  and  Miss  Marion  were  close  at 
hand,  he  paused  one  moment,  then  with  significant 
gesture  called  Ray  to  his  side.  Then  Stuyvesant 
could  not  but  hear  every  word  of  the  sudden  and 
startling  message. 

"  Ray,  you're  wanted  at  the  barracks  at  once. 
Prisoners  'scaped  and  your  house  is  robbed  !" 

Stuyvesant  ran  beside  him  as  Ray  went  bound 
ing  down  the  stairs  and  out  into  Montgomery 
Street. 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  97 

"  Can  I  be  of  any  service  ?  Can  I  help  you 
some  way?"  he  urged,  for  he  saw  the  young  offi 
cer  was  looking  white  and  anxious.  But  Ray  hur 
riedly  thanked  him  and  declined.  He  could  not 
imagine,  he  said,  what  his  loss  might  be,  yet  some 
thing  told  him  if  anybody  had  escaped  it  was  that 
hulking  sinner  Murray. 

He  sprang  upon  the  first  street-car  at  the  corner, 
waved  his  hand  in  parting,  and  was  whisked  away 
westward,  leaving  Stuyvesant  standing  discon 
solate. 

How  now  could  he  hope  to  meet  her  ?  The 
clerk  at  the  office  seemed  friendly  and  sympathetic 
when  Stuyvesant  wandered  back  there,  and  gave 
him  such  particulars  of  the  situation  at  the  Pre 
sidio  as  he  had  been  able  to  gather  over  the  wire. 
It  seemed  that  a  rumor  had  reached  the  command 
ing  officer  that  a  number  of  tools  had  been  smug 
gled  into  the  guard-house  by  the  prisoners,  and  by 
the  aid  of  these  they  hoped  to  cut  their  way  out 
Despite  the  fact  that  it  was  growing  dark,  a  search 
of  the  prison  room  and  cells  was  ordered  while  the 
prisoners  stood  in  line  in  front  awaiting  the  usual 
evening  inspection.  There  was  no  one  to  tell  just 
who  started  it  or  how,  but,  all  on  a  sudden,  while 
many  of  the  guard  were  aiding  in  the  search  inside, 

7 


98  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

the  whole  array  of  prisoners,  regular  and  volunteer, 
old  and  young,  except  those  few  in  irons,  made  a 
sudden  and  simultaneous  dash  for  liberty,  scatter 
ing  in  every  direction.  Some  had  already  been 
recaptured,  but  at  least  twenty-five  were  still  at 
large,  and  the  post  adjutant,  telephoning  for  Ray, 
briefly  added  that  there  was  every  evidence  that 
his  quarters  had  been  robbed. 

All  this  Stuyvesant  heard  with  an  absorbing 
interest,  wondering  whether  it  might  not  be  possi 
ble  to  make  it  a  plea  or  pretext  on  which  to  pre 
sent  himself  to  Mrs.  Ray,  and  then  ask  to  be  pre 
sented  to  her  daughter.  A  second  time  he  as 
cended  the  stairs  and,  sauntering  by,  peered  in  at 
the  parlor-door.  Yes,  there  sat  the  charming 
matron  looking  so  winsome  and  kind  as  she  smiled 
upon  her  circle  of  visitors,  but,  alas,  they  were  four 
in  number  and  all  officers  of  rank  in  the  regular 
service,  and  Stuyvesant's  shyness  again  overcame 
him. 

Moreover,  his  brief  glance  into  the  brightly 
lighted  apartment,  all  decorated  as  it  was  with  flags 
and  flowers,  revealed  Miss  Ray  seated  near  the 
window  with  two  young  cavalrymen  in  devoted 
attendance — all  three  apparently  so  absorbed  in 
their  chat  that  he,  lonely  and  wistful,  escaped  ob- 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  99 

servation  entirely  until,  just  as  he  passed  from 
view,  her  lovely  dark  eyes  were  for  an  instant 
quickly  raised,  and  though  he  knew  it  not,  she  saw 
him,  and  saw  too  that  he  was  wandering  aimlessly 
about,  but,  quick  as  woman's  intuition,  her  eyes 
returned  to  the  face  of  the  eager  young  trooper  by 
her  side,  for  Stuyvesant  turned  for  one  more  long 
ing  glance  before  descending,  defeated,  to  the  office 
floor. 

It  was  his  last  opportunity,  and  fate  seemed 
utterly  against  him,  for  when  on  the  following 
evening  his  general  went  to  call  upon  Mrs.  Ray 
and  took  his  handsome  and  hopeful  aide,  "  The 
ladies  are  out,"  said  the  bell-boy.  They  were 
dining  at  the  adjutant-general's. 

In  desperation,  Stuyvesant  went  over  to  a  flor 
ist's  on  Post  Street,  bought  a  box  of  superb  roses, 
and  sent  them  with  his  card  to  Miss  Ray,  ex 
pressing  deep  regret  that  he  had  been  denied 
opportunity  to  thank  her  in  person  for  her  kind 
ness  to  him  the  night  of  the  fire.  He  wanted  to 
say  that  he  owed  his  eyes  to  her,  but  felt  that 
she  knew  better  and  would  be  more  offended  than 
pleased. 

He  was  to  sail  on  the  morrow,  and  he  had  not 
even  seen  her  brother  again. 


ioo  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

But  the  department  commander  had  said  he 
purposed  coming  out  with  a  party  of  friends  to 
run  alongside  the  flag-ship  as  she  steamed  slowly 
out  to  sea,  and  that  was  why  Mr.  Stuyvesant  stood 
so  eagerly  watching  the  ploughing  side-wheeler  so 
swiftly  coming  in  pursuit.  Already  he  had  made 
out  the  double  stars  in  the  bunting  at  the  jack- 
staff.  Already  he  could  distinguish  the  forms  of 
several  general  officers  whose  commands  were  not 
yet  ready  for  embarkation  and  the  fluttering  gar 
ments  of  a  score  of  women. 

Something  told  him  she  would  be  of  the  party, 
and  as  the  Vanguard  slowed  down  to  let  the  head 
quarters'  boat  run  alongside,  his  heart  beat  eagerly 
when  his  general  said :  "  We'll  go  down,  gentle 
men,  and  board  her.  It'll  be  much  easier  than  the 
climb  would  be  to  them." 

So  it  happened  that  five  minutes  later  he  found 
himself  at  the  heels  of  his  chief  shaking  hands 
mechanically  with  a  dozen  officers,  while  his  eyes 
kept  peering  beyond  them  to  where,  on  the  after- 
deck,  the  smiling  group  of  women  stood  ex 
pectant. 

And  presently  the  general  pushed  on  for  a  word 
of  farewell  with  them,  the  aides  obediently  follow 
ing,  and  then  came  more  presentations  to  cordial 


A  STORY  OF 

and  kindly  people  whose  names  he  did  not  even 
hear,  for  just  a  little  farther  on,  and  still  sur 
rounded  by  cavaliers,  stood  Mrs.  Ray,  the  hand 
somest  and  most  distinguished-looking  woman  of 
the  party,  and  close  beside  her,  petite  and  graceful, 
her  dark  beauty  even  the  more  noticeable  in  con 
trast  with  the  fair  features  of  her  mother,  stood 
Maidie.  And  then  at  last  it  came,  the  simple 
words  that  threw  down  the  social  barrier  that  so 
long  had  balked  him. 

"  My  aide-de-camp,  Mr.  Stuyvesant,  Mrs.  Ray, 
— Miss  Ray,"  and  with  his  soul  in  his  eyes  he 
looked  down  into  that  radiant  face,  smiling  so 
cordially,  unconstrainedly  into  his,  and  then  found 
himself  striving  to  recall  what  on  earth  it  was  he 
was  so  anxious  to  say. 

He  knew  that  he  was  flushing  to  the  peak  of  his 
forage-cap.  He  knew  he  was  trying  to  stammer 
something.  He  saw  that  she  was  perfectly  placid 
and  at  her  ease.  He  saw,  worse  luck,  that  she 
wore  a  little  knot  of  roses  on  the  breast  of  her 
natty  jacket,  but  that  they  were  not  his.  He  fal 
tered  something  to  the  effect  that  he  had  been 
trying  to  see  her  ever  since  the  night  of  the  fire — 
had  so  much  to  thank  her  for;  and  her  white,  even, 
beautiful  teeth  gleamed  as  she  laughingly  answered 


^2  RAV'S  DAUGHTER 

that  the  cherries  had  more  than  cancelled  the 
score. 

He  asked  for  news  of  her  brother,  and  was  told 
that  he  had  been  too  much  occupied  to  come  in 
again.  They  were  going  out  to  the  Presidio  that 
afternoon. 

And  then  he  ventured  to  hope  Mr.  Ray  had 
sustained  no  great  loss  in  the  robbery  of  his  quar 
ters,  and  saw  at  once  that  he  was  breaking  news, 
for  the  smile  vanished  instantly,  the  lovely  face 
clouded  with  concern,  and  he  had  only  time  to 
stammer:  "  Then,  probably,  there  was  no  truth  in  the 
story.  I  merely  happened  to  hear  two  nights  ago 
that  Mr.  Ray's  quarters  had  been  robbed, — about 
the  time  the  prisoners  escaped."  And  then  he 
heard  his  general  calling,  and  saw  that  the  party 
was  already  clambering  back  to  the  Vanguard. 

"  I — I — I  hope  I  may  see  you  when  we  get  back 
from  Manila,  Miss  Ray,"  he  said,  as  he  bowed  over 
her  hand. 

"  I  think  you  may  see  me — before  that,"  was 
the  smiling  answer.  And  then  Captain  Hawley 
grabbed  him  by  the  arm  and  rushed  him  to  the 
side. 

Two  minutes  more  and  he  was  on  the  deck 
of  the  transport.  The  lines  were  cast  off,  the  white 


A  STORY   OF  MANILA  103 

side-wheeler,  alive  with  sympathetic  faces,  some 
smiling,  some  tearful,  and  a  forest  of  fluttering 
kerchiefs,  dropped  slowly  astern,  and  all  that  long 
evening  as  they  bored  through  the  fogs  of  the 
Farallones  and  bowed  and  dipped  to  the  long 
swell  of  the  sea,  and  all  the  long  week  that  fol 
lowed  as  they  steamed  over  a  sunlit  summer  ocean, 
Stuyvesant  found  himself  repeating  again  and 
again  her  parting  words,  and  wondering  what 
could  have  been  the  explanation  of  her  knowing- 
nothing  of  the  robbery  of  her  brother's  quarters, 
or  what  could  have  been  her  meaning  when  she 
said  "  I  think  you  may  see  me — before  that." 

Only  once  on  the  run  to  Honolulu  was  the 
flotilla  of  transports  neared  by  other  voyagers. 
Three  days  out  from  San  Francisco  the  "  O.  and 
O."  liner  Doric  slowly  overhauled  and  gradually 
passed  them  by.  Exchanging  signals,  "All  well 
on  board,"  she  was  soon  lost  in  the  shadows  of  the 
night  long  miles  ahead. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THERE  was  trouble  at  the  Presidio. 

All  but  ten  of  the  escaped  prisoners  had  been 
recaptured  or  self-surrendered,  but  the  ten  still  at 
large  were  among  the  worst  of  the  array,  and 
among  the  ten  was  the  burly,  hulking  recruit  en 
listed  under  the  name  of  Murray,  but  declared  by 
Captain  Kress,  on  the  strength  of  the  report  of  a 
detective  from  town,  to  be  earlier  and  better  known 
as  Sackett  and  as  a  former  member  of  the  Seventh 
Cavalry,  from  which  regiment  he  had  parted  com 
pany  without  the  formality  of  either  transfer  or 
discharge. 

Murray  was  a  man  worth  his  keep,  as  military 
records  of  misdemeanors  went,  and  a  sore-hearted 
fellow  was  the  sergeant  of  the  guard,  held  respon 
sible  for  the  wholesale  escape.  And  yet  it  was  not 
so  much  the  sergeant's  fault.  The  evening  had 
come  on  dark,  damp,  and  dripping.  Gas-lamps 
and  barrack-lanterns  were  lighted  before  the  sunset 
gun.  The  sergeant  himself  and  several  of  the 
guard  had  been  called  inside  to  the  prison  room  by 
the  commanding  officer  and  his  staff.  There  was 
104 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  105 

a  maze  of  brick  and  wooden  buildings  in  front  of 
the  guard-house,  and  a  perfect  tangle  of  dense 
shrubbery  only  fifty  yards  away  to  the  west.  It 
was  into  this  that  most  of  the  fugitives  dived  and 
were  instantly  lost  to  sight,  while  others  had  dou 
bled  behind  the  guard-house  and  rushed  into  an 
alley-way  that  passed  in  rear  of  the  club  and  a  row 
of  officers'  quarters. 

Some  of  them  apparently  had  taken  refuge  in  the 
cellars  or  wood-  and  coal-sheds  until  thick  dark 
ness  came  down,  and  others  had  actually  dared  to 
enter  the  quarters  of  Lieutenant  Ray,  for  the  back 
door  was  found  wide  open,  the  sideboard,  wherein 
had  been  kept  some  choice  old  Kentucky  whiskey 
produced  only  on  special  occasions,  had  been 
forced,  and  the  half-emptied  demijohn  and  some 
glasses  stood  on  the  table  in  a  pool  of  sloppy 
water. 

But  what  was  worse,  the  lieutenant's  desk  in  the 
front  room,  securely  locked  when  he  went  to  town, 
had  been  burst  open  with  a  chisel,  and  Mr.  Ray 
had  declined  to  say  how  much  he  had  lost.  In 
deed,  he  did  not  fully  know. 

"  Too  busy  to  come  in,"  was  the  message  he  had 
sent  his  mother  the  morning  after  the  discovery, 
and  yet  all  that  morning  he  remained  about  his 


io6  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

quarters  after  one  brief  interview  with  the  per 
turbed  and  exasperated  post  commander,  ransack 
ing  desks,  drawers,  and  trunks  in  the  vain  hope 
that  he  might  find  in  them  some  of  the  missing 
property,  for  little  by  little  the  realization  was 
forced  upon  him  that  his  loss  would  sum  up  sev 
eral  hundreds — all  through  his  own  neglect  and 
through  disregard  of  his  father's  earnest  counsel. 

Only  three  days  before  the  lieutenant  command 
ing  his  troop  had  been  sent  to  Oregon  and  Wash 
ington  on  duty  connected  with  the  mustering  of 
volunteers, — their  captain  was  a  field  officer  of  one 
of  the  regiments  of  his  native  State, — and,  in  hur 
riedly  leaving,  Lieutenant  Creswell  had  turned 
over  to  his  young  subordinate  not  only  the  troop 
fund,  amounting  to  over  four  hundred  dollars,  but 
the  money  belonging  to  the  post  athletic  associa 
tion,  and  marked  envelopes  containing  the  pay  of 
certain  soldiers  on  temporary  detached  service — 
in  all  between  nine  hundred  and  one  thousand 
dollars. 

"  Whenever  you  have  care  of  public  money — 
even  temporarily — put  it  at  once  into  the  nearest 
United  States  depository,"  said  his  father.  "  Even 
office  safes  in  garrison  are  not  safe,"  he  had  further 
said.  "  Clerks,  somehow,  learn  the  combination 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  107 

and  are  tempted  sometimes  beyond  their  strength. 
Lose  no  time,  therefore,  in  getting  your  funds  into 
the  bank." 

And  that  was  what  he  meant  to  do  in  this  case, 
only,  as  the  absent  troopers  were  expected  to  return 
in  two  days,  what  was  the  use  of  breaking  up  those 
sealed  envelopes  and  depositing  the  whole  thing 
only  to  have  to  draw  it  out  in  driblets  again  as  the 
men  came  to  him  for  it.  Surely  he  could  safely 
leave  that  much  at  least  in  the  quartermaster's 
safe.  Creswell  never  thought  of  depositing  the 
cash  at  all.  He  carried  it  around  with  him,  a  wad 
of  greenbacks  and  a  little  sack  of  gold,  and  never 
lost  a  cent. 

Ray  took  the  entire  sum  to  the  quartermaster's 
office  Tuesday  evening  and  asked  to  store  it  in  the 
safe.  The  clerk  looked  up  from  his  desk  and  said 
he  was  sorry,  but  the  quartermaster  was  the  only 
man  who  knew  the  combination,  and  he  had  gone 
over  to  Camp  Merritt. 

So  Ray  kept  it  that  night  and  intended  taking  it 
to  town  Wednesday  morning,  but  drills  interposed. 
He  carried  a  little  fortune  with  him  when  he  went 
in  to  meet  his  mother  and  sister  Wednesday  even 
ing,  half  intending  to  ask  the  genial  "  major," — mine 
host  of  the  Occidental, — to  take  care  of  it  for  him 


io8  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

in  the  private  safe,  but  the  major  was  out  and  the 
money  was  still  bulging  in  Ray's  pockets  when  he 
returned  to  the  post  late  that  night,  and  it  had 
been  very  much  in  his  way.  Thursday  he  fully 
expected  the  troopers  back,  and  yet  when  stables 
were  over  Thursday  evening  and  he  was  ready  to 
start  for  town  to  join  his  dear  ones,  and  was  array 
ing  himself  in  his  most  immaculate  uniform  and 
secretly  rejoicing  in  the  order  prohibiting  officers 
from  wearing  for  the  time  being  civilian  dress,  he 
found  himself  still  burdened  by  the  money  pack 
ages  and  in  a  hurry  to  catch  a  certain  car  or  else 
keep  them  waiting  for  dinner. 

The  quartermaster's  office  was  several  hundred 
yards  away,  and  there  stood  his  own  desk,  a  beau 
tiful  and  costly  thing — his  mother's  gift — with  its 
strong  locks  and  intricate  system  of  pigeon-holes 
and  secret  drawers.  He  would  "  chance  it"  one 
night,  he  said,  and  give  his  trusted  servant  orders 
to  stand  guard  over  the  premises,  and  so  the  little 
bag  of  gold  went  into  one  closed  compartment, 
the  envelopes  and  wads  of  treasury  notes  into 
the  hidden  drawer,  and  the  key  into  his  watch- 
pocket. 

His  servant  was  a  young  man  whose  father  had 
been  with  Colonel  Ray  for  quarter  cl  a  century,  a 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  109 

faithful  Irishman  by  the  name  of  Hogan.  He  was 
honest  to  the  core  and  had  but  one  serious  failing 
— he  would  drink.  He  would  go  for  months  with 
out  a  lapse,  and  then  something  would  happen  to 
give  him  a  start,  and  nothing  short  of  a  spree 
would  satisfy  his  craving.  It  was  said  that  in  days 
gone  by  "  old  man  Hogan"  was  similarly  afflicted, 
but  those  were  times  when  an  occasional  frolic  was 
the  rule  rather  than  the  exception  with  most 
troopers  on  the  far  frontier,  and  Hogan  senior 
had  followed  the  fortunes  of  the  — th  Cavalry  and 
Captain  Ray  until  an  Indian  bullet  had  smashed 
his  bridle-arm  and  compelled  his  discharge. 

Whereupon  Mrs.  Ray  had  promptly  told  the 
gallant  fellow  that  their  army  home  was  to  be  his, 
and  that  if  he  would  consent  to  serve  as  butler  or 
as  the  captain's  own  man  to  look  after  his  boots, 
spurs,  and  sabres  he  would  never  lack  for  money 
comforts,  or  home. 

Perhaps  had  Mrs.  Ray  foreseen  that  the  dashing 
Irishman  was  destined  to  lay  siege  to  the  heart  of 
her  pretty  maid,  she  might  have  suggested  setting 
Hogan  up  in  business  farther  away.  Perhaps,  too, 
she  would  not,  for  his  almost  pathetic  devotion 
to  her  beloved  husband  was  something  she  could 
never  forget.  Hogan,  the  crippled  veteran,  and 


no  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

Kitty,  the  winsome  maid,  were  duly  wed,  and  con 
tinued  as  part  of  the  army  household  wherever 
they  went.  And  in  course  of  the  quarter  century 
it  seemed  to  be  but  a  case  of  domestic  history 
repeating  itself  that  young  "  Mart"  should  become 
Mr.  Sandy's  factotum  and  valet,  even  though 
Sandy  could  have  secured  the  services  of  a  much 
better  one  for  less  money.  Young  Mart  had  all 
his  father's  old-time  dash  and  impetuosity,  but  less 
of  his  devotion,  and  on  this  particular  Thursday 
evening,  just  when  his  master  most  needed  him, 
Mart  was  not  to  be  found.  Ray  stormed  a  bit  as 
he  finished  his  toilet.  Then,  as  there  was  no  time 
to  be  lost,  he  closed  the  door  of  his  bedroom  be 
hind  him  and  hastened  away  to  the  east  gate.  Just 
outside  the  reservation  was  a  resort  kept  by  a 
jovial  compatriot  of  Hogan's, — assuming  that  an 
Irishman  is  always  an  Irishman  whether  born  on 
the  sod  or  in  the  States, — and  there  Ray  felt  pretty 
sure  of  finding  his  servant  and  sending  him  home 
to  mount  guard.  And  there,  sure  enough,  he 
learned  that  Hogan  had  been  up  to  within  five 
minutes,  and  had  left  saying  he  must  go  to  help 
the  lieutenant.  He  was  perfectly  sober,  said  the 
publican,  and  it  was  more  than  half  a  mile  back  to 
quarters.  Ray  would  be  late  for  dinner  as  it  was, 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  in 

the  car  was  coming,  and  so,  though  dissatisfied 
and  ill  at  ease,  he  jumped  aboard,  hurried  to  the 
Occidental,  and  within  three  hours  was  stunned 
and  almost  crushed  by  the  tidings  that  the  house 
had  been  entered  and  robbed,  probably  within  an 
hour  after  he  left  it. 

And  now  Saturday  morning,  while  the  guns  of 
Alcatraz  were  booming  in  salute  across  the  bay 
and  all  the  garrison  was  out  along  the  shore  or  on 
the  seaward  heights,  waving  farewell  to  the  Vinton 
flotilla,  and  his  mother  and  Maidie  had  gone  out 
with  the  department  commander  to  bid  them  god 
speed,  poor  Sandy  sat  wretchedly  in  his  quarters. 

Hogan,  overwhelmed  by  the  magnitude  of  his 
master's  misfortune,  and  realizing  that  it  was  due 
in  no  small  degree  to  his  own  neglect,  was  now 
self-exiled  from  the  lieutenant's  roof,  and  seeking 
such  consolation  as  he  could  find  at  the  Harp  of 
Erin  outside  the  walls,  a  miserable  and  contrite 
man, — contrite,  that  is  to  say,  as  manifested  in  the 
manner  of  his  country,  for  Hogan  was  pottle  deep 
in  his  distress. 

Although  vouched  for  as  perfectly  sober  from 
the  Hibernian  point  of  view,  he  well  knew  that  he 
had  taken  so  much  that  fatal  Thursday  evening  as 
to  be  fearful  of  meeting  his  master,  and  so  had 


ii2  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

kept  out  of  the  way  until  full  time  for  him  to  be 
gone  to  dinner.  Then,  working  his  way  home 
ward  in  the  darkness  of  the  night,  he  had  mar 
velled  much  at  finding  the  back  door  open,  rejoiced 
at  sight  of  the  demijohn  and  disorder  in  the  little 
dining-room,  arguing  therefrom  that  the  lieutenant 
had  had  some  jovial  callers  and  therefore  hadn't 
missed  him. 

Hogan  drank,  in  his  master's  priceless  old  Blue 
Grass  Bourbon,  to  the  health  of  the  party,  and 
then,  stumbling  into  the  bedroom  and  lighting  the 
lamp,  came  upon  a  sight  that  filled  him  with  dis 
may — the  beautiful  desk  burst  open,  drawers  and 
letters  and  papers  scattered  about  in  utter  confu 
sion, — and  in  his  excitement  and  terror  he  had 
gone  on  the  run  to  the  adjutant's  quarters,  told 
that  official  of  his  discovery,  and  then  learned  of 
the  wholesale  jail  delivery  that  occurred  at  re 
treat. 

He  wrung  his  hands  and  wept  as  he  listened  to 
his  young  master's  wrathful  rebuke  and  the  recital 
of  his  losses.  He  hung  meekly  about  the  house 
all  night  long,  but,  unable  to  bear  the  sight  of  poor 
Ray's  mingled  anger  and  distress,  he  had  fled  with 
the  coming  of  the  day  and  gone  to  tell  his  woes  to 
his  friend  of  the  Harp. 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  113 

Afternoon  of  Saturday  came,  and  still  Ray  sat 
there  nerveless. 

He  knew  that  any  moment  now  would  bring 
that  loving  mother  and  sister.  He  had  cleared  up 
the  litter  left  by  the  robbers,  put  his  desk  in  order, 
and  Hogan  had  done  his  best  with  the  sideboard 
in  the  other  room. 

Sympathetic  souls  among  his  brother  officers 
had  been  in  from  time  to  time  consoling  him  with 
theories  that  the  thief  could  not  escape, — would 
surely  be  recaptured  and  the  money  recovered. 
But  on  the  other  hand  he  was  visited  by  the  re 
turned  troopers  in  quest  of  their  money,  and  was 
compelled  to  tell  them  of  the  robbery  and  to  ask 
them  to  wait  until  Monday,  when  he  would  be  able 
to  pay  them. 

Luckier  than  others  who  have  been  overtaken 
in  the  army  by  somewhat  similar  misfortune,  Ray 
knew  that  he  had  only  to  acquaint  his  parents  with 
the  extent  of  his  loss,  and,  even  though  the  sum 
was  great,  it  would  be  instantly  made  good.  Yet 
the  thought  of  having  to  tell  his  mother  was  a 
sore  thing.  He  had  disregarded  his  father's  cau 
tion.  He  had  proved  unworthy  of  trust  before 
the  gloss  had  begun  to  wear  from  his  first 
shoulder-straps,  and  he  well  knew  that  his 

8 


n4  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

mother's  fortune  was  no  longer  what  it  was  at 
the  time  of  her  marriage. 

In  the  years  of  their  wanderings  all  over  the 
West  all  her  business  affairs  had  been  in  the  hands 
of  a  trusted  agent  at  home,  and  it  so  often  happens 
that  in  the  prolonged  absence  of  owners  trusted 
agents  follow  the  lead  of  the  unjust  steward  of 
Holy  Writ  and  make  friends  of  the  mammon  of 
unrighteousness  and  ducks  and  drakes  of  their 
employers'  assets. 

The  ranch  bought  for  him  the  year  gone  by  was 
a  heavy  drain.  His  father,  in  giving  him  a  few 
hundred  dollars  for  his  outfit,  had  told  him  that 
now  he  must  live  entirely  on  his  pay,  and  that  he 
should  be  able  to  "  put  by"  a  little  every  month. 

But,  as  was  to  be  expected  of  his  father's  son 
and  his  Kentucky  blood,  Sandy  could  not  bid  fare 
well  to  his  associates  at  the  ranch  or  the  citizens 
of  the  little  cow  and  mining  town  on  the  Big  Horn 
without  a  parting  "  blow  out,"  in  which  his  health 
was  drunk  a  dozen  times  an  hour.  Oh,  that  he 
had  that  money  now  instead  of  certain  unpaid 
bills  in  that  ravished  secret  drawer!  It  was  humili 
ation  inexpressible  to  have  to  send  those  men  away 
empty-handed,  and  in  his  dejection  and  misery, 
poor  boy,  he  wandered  to  his  sideboard  instead 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  115 

of  going  to  luncheon  at  the  mess,  and  all  he  had 
had  to  eat  or  drink  that  day,  by  the  time  Mrs.  Ray 
and  Maidie  came  late  in  the  afternoon,  was  some 
crackers  and  cheese  and  he  didn't  know  how  many 
nips  of  that  priceless  Blue  Grass  Bourbon. 

The  bright,  brave  young  eyes  were  glassy  and 
his  dark  cheek  heavily  flushed  when  at  four  o'clock 
he  hastened  out  to  assist  his  mother  from  her  car 
riage,  and  the  color  fled  from  her  beautiful  face; 
her  heart  seemed  to  stand  still  and  her  hand  trem 
bled  violently  as  she  noted  it  all,  but  took  his  arm 
without  a  word,  and,  with  Maidie  silently  follow 
ing,  went  up  the  steps  and  into  the  little  army 
home,  where  the  door  closed  behind  them,  and 
the  knot  of  lookers-on,  officers  awaiting  the  call 
for  afternoon  stables,  glanced  significantly  at  each 
other,  then  went  on  their  way. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

VINTON'S  flotilla  came  steaming  into  Honolulu 
harbor  just  as  the  smoke  of  the  Doric  was  fading 
away  on  the  westward  horizon. 

Cheers  and  acclamations,  a  banquet  tendered  to 
the  entire  force  in  the  beautiful  grounds  about  the 
Palace,  and  a  welcome  such  as  even  San  Francisco 
had  not  given  awaited  them.  Three  days  were 
spent  in  coaling  for  the  long  voyage  to  Manila, 
and  during  that  time  officers  and  men  were  ena 
bled  to  spend  hours  in  sea-bathing  and  sight 
seeing. 

Vinton,  eager  to  push  ahead,  fumed  with  im 
patience  over  the  slow  and  primitive  methods  by 
which  his  ships  were  coaled,  but  the  junior  officers 
found  many  a  cause  for  rejoicing  over  their  en 
forced  detention.  Dinners,  dances,  and  surf-rides 
were  the  order  of  every  evening.  Riding  parties 
to  the  Pali  and  picnics  at  Pearl  Harbor  and  the 
plantations  along  the  railway  filled  up  every  hour 
of  the  long,  soft,  sensuous  days. 

The  soldiers  explored  every  nook  and  corner  of 
116 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  117 

the  town  and,  for  a  wonder,  got  back  to  ship  with 
out  serious  diminution  in  their  number,  and  with 
a  high  opinion  of  the  police,  who  seemed  bent  on 
protecting  the  blue-coats  from  the  States  and 
making  the  best  of  their  exuberance  of  spirits. 

Only  one  row  of  any  consequence  occurred 
within  the  forty-eight  hours  of  their  arrival.  Three 
of  the  Colorado  volunteers  playing  billiards  in  a 
prominent  resort  were  deliberately  annoyed  and 
insulted  by  some  merchant  sailors  who  had  been 
drinking  heavily  at  the  expense  of  a  short,  thick 
set,  burly  fellow  in  a  loud  check  suit  and  flaming 
necktie,  a  stranger  to  the  police,  who  knew  of  him 
only  that  he  had  landed  from  the  Doric  and  was 
waiting  the  coming  of  the  Miowera  from  Van 
couver  for  Australia,  and  she  was  due  on  the 
morrow. 

He  had  taken  quarters  at  a  second-rate  sailors' 
lodging-house  and  at  first  kept  much  to  himself, 
but,  once  started  to  drinking  with  his  maritime 
neighbors,  he  became  noisy  and  truculent,  and 
sallied  forth  with  four  of  his  new-found  friends, 
all  half  drunk  and  wholly  bent  on  mischief. 

The  sight  of  three  quiet-mannered  young  fellows 
playing  pool  in  the  saloon  was  just  the  thing  to 
excite  all  the  blackguard  instinct  latent  in  their 


n8  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

half-sodden  skins,  and  from  sneering  remark  they 
had  rapidly  passed  to  deliberate  insult. 

In  less  than  a  minute  thereafter  the  three  young 
volunteers,  flushed  and  panting,  were  surveying 
the  police  and  bystanders  busily  engaged  in  drag 
ging  out  from  under  the  tables  and  propping  up 
some  wrecks  of  humanity,  while  the  head  devil  of 
the  whole  business,  the  burly  civilian  in  the  loud- 
checked  suit,  pitched  headlong  out  of  the  rear 
window,  was  stanching  the  blood  from  his  broken 
nose  at  the  hydrant  of  a  neighboring  stable. 

The  volunteers  were  escorted  to  the  landing 
with  all  honors,  and  their  antagonists,  barring  the 
ringleader,  to  the  police  station.  The  affair  was 
over  so  quickly  that  few  had  seen  anything  of  it 
and  only  one  man  had  pitched  in  to  the  support 
of  the  soldiers — a  civilian  who  came  over  on  the 
Vanguard  by  the  authority  of  General  Vinton,  the 
ex-brakeman  of  the  Southern  Pacific.  While  the 
Colorado  men  had  little  to  say  beyond  the  state 
ment  that  they  had  been  wantonly  insulted  if  not 
actually  assailed  by  a  gang  of  strangers,  the  rail 
way  man  was  ablaze  with  excitement  and  wrath 
over  the  escape  of  the  leader  of  the  vanquished 
party. 

"  I've  seen  that  cur-dog  face  of  his  somewhere 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  119 

before,"  said  he,  "  and  the  quicker  you  find  him 
and  nab  him  the  better.  That  man's  wanted  in 
more  than  one  place,  or  I'm  a  duffer." 

And  so  the  police  spent  hours  that  night  in 
search  of  the  stranger,  but  to  no  purpose.  He 
kept  in  hiding  somewhere,  and  their  efforts  were 
vain.  Search  of  his  luggage  at  the  lodging-house 
revealed  the  fact  that  he  had  a  lot  of  new  shirts, 
underwear,  etc.,  but  not  a  paper  or  mark  that  revealed 
his  identity.  The  proprietor  said  the  man  had 
given  the  name  of  Spence,  but  he  heard  two  of  the 
sailors  call  him  Sackett. 

The  following  evening  the  general  and  his  staff 
dined  at  the  beautiful  home  of  one  of  the  old  and 
wealthy  residents,  and  towards  nine  o'clock  Mr. 
Stuyvesant  asked  his  general's  permission  to  with 
draw,  as  he  had  two  calls  to  make  before  returning 
aboard  ship.  They  were  to  sail  at  dawn. 

Bidding  good-night  and  good-by  to  his  charm 
ing  hostess,  and  declining  the  hospitable  offer  of  a 
post-prandial  "  peg"  from  her  genial  lord,  the  young 
officer  stepped  blithely  away  down  the  moonlit 
avenue. 

It  was  a  beautiful  summer  night.  The  skies 
were  cloudless,  the  air  soft  and  still.  Somewhere, 
either  at  the  park  or  in  the  grounds  of  the  Royal 


120  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

Hawaiian,  the  famous  band  of  Honolulu  was  giving 
a  concert,  and  strains  of  glorious  music,  rich  and 
full,  came  floating  on  the  gentle  breeze.  Here  and 
there  the  electric  lights  were  gleaming  in  the  dense 
tropical  foliage,  and  sounds  of  merry  chat  and 
musical  laughter  fell  softly  on  the  ear. 

The  broad  thoroughfare  of  Beretania  Street  was 
well  nigh  deserted,  though  once  in  a  while  the 
lights  of  a  cab  on  noiseless  wheel  flashed  by,  and 
at  rare  intervals  Stuyvesant  met  or  overtook  some 
blissful  pair  whispering  in  the  deep  shadows  of  the 
overhanging  trees. 

It  was  quite  a  walk  to  the  consul-general's,  his 
first  objective  point,  but  he  enjoyed  it  and  the  brief 
visit  that  followed.  Naturally  the  affair  of  the 
previous  evening  came  up  for  discussion,  and  there 
was  some  conjecture  and  speculation  as  to  the 
identity  of  the  leader  of  the  attack  on  the  Denver 
boys.  Stuyvesant  repeated  what  his  friend  the 
brakeman  said,  that  somewhere  he  had  seen  the 
fellow's  face  before,  but  he  had  only  a  second's 
glimpse  of  it,  for  the  moment  he  launched  in  to 
the  aid  of  the  volunteers  the  man  in  the  check 
suit  caught  sight  of  him — and  a  simultaneous  crack 
on  the  nose  that  sent  him  reeling  towards  the  open 
window,  through  which  he  darted  the  instant  he 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  121 

could  recover  balance,  leaving  the  field  equally 
divided,  four  to  four  in  point  of  numbers,  but  other 
wise  with  overwhelming"  advantage  on  the  side  of 
the  clear  heads  and  trained  muscles  of  the  sol 
diers. 

A  grewsome  sight  those  sailors  had  presented 
when  called  up  for  sentence  in  the  morning,  and  a 
remorseful  quartette  they  proved.  Moreover,  to 
the  consul-general,  who  had  been  called  in  in  the 
interest  of  fair  play  for  Jack,  they  declared  that 
they  were  innocent  of  all  evil  intent.  They  only 
went  in  for  a  little  fun  with  the  soldiers.  It  was 
that  San  Francisco  fellow  who  called  himself 
Spence  when  he  was  sober  and  Sackett  when  he 
got  drunk  who  brought  on  the  row,  and  then 
abandoned  them  to  their  fate.  He  had  owned  that 
he  "  had  it  in"  for  soldiers  in  general, — hated  the 
whole  gang  of  them  and  wanted  to  see  them  well 
licked.  He  had  plenty  of  money  and  would  pay 
their  fines  if  the  police  "  ran  them  in,"  and  now  he 
had  left  them  in  the  lurch. 

They  had  no  money  and  were  confronted  with 
the  probability  of  a  month's  labor  with  the  "  chain- 
gang"  on  the  public  roads  if  the  consul-general 
couldn't  get  them  off.  So  that  amiable  official  had 
gone  out  to  the  flotilla  and  had  a  talk  with  the 


122  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

Colorado  officers  and  the  three  brawny  heroes  of 
the  billiard-room  battle,  with  the  result  that  every 
body  agreed  to  heap  all  the  blame  on  the  van 
ished  culprit  in  the  check  suit,  and  the  sailors 
got  off  with  a  nominal  fine  and  went  home  to 
nurse  their  bruises  and  their  wrath  against  Spence, 
alias  Sackett.  That  fellow  shouldn't  get  away  on 
the  Miowera  if  they  could  help  it. 

All  this  Stuyvesant  was  pondering  over  as,  after 
stopping  to  leave  his  P.  P.  C.  at  the  Pacific  Club, 
he  strolled  down  Fort  Street  on  his  way  to  the 
boat-landing.  The  big  whistle  of  an  incoming 
steamer  had  attracted  his  attention  as  he  left  the 
consul-general's  to  make  one  more  call,  and  at 
the  club  he  heard  someone  say  the  Miowera  had 
reached  her  dock  and  would  sail  for  Australia  in 
the  morning. 

The  sky,  that  had  been  so  cloudless  early  in  the 
evening,  became  somewhat  overcast  by  eleven,  and 
the  moonlight  was  dim  and  vague  as  he  reached 
the  landing. 

In  his  several  trips  to  and  from  the  transport  it 
happened  that  he  had  fallen  frequently  into  the 
hands  of  a  bright  Kanaka  boatboy  whose  admira 
ble  rowing  and  handling  of  the  boat  had  pleased 
and  interested  him. 


A   STORY   OF  MANILA  123 

"Be  ready  to  take  me  out  about  11.30,"  he  had 
told  him,  and  now  where  was  he  ? 

Several  officers  and  soldiers  were  there  bargain 
ing  with  the  boatmen,  and  three  or  four  of  these 
amphibious  Hawaiians  precipitated  themselves  on 
Stuyvesant  with  appeals  for  a  job,  but  he  asked 
for  Joe. 

"  Him  gone,"  was  the  answer  of  an  eager  rival. 
"  Him  other  job ;"  but  even  as  they  would  have 
persuaded  Stuyvesant  that  Joe  was  not  to  be  had 
and  his  selection  must  be  one  of  their  number,  Joe 
himself  came  running  from  the  direction  of  a  ware 
house  a  short  pistol-shot  away. 

"  What  kept  you,  Joe  ?"  asked  Stuyvesant,  as  the 
light  boat  danced  away  on  the  tide. 

"  Feller  want  me  take  him  outside  Miowera," 
was  the  answer,  "  him  behind  warehouse." 

"  The  deuce  you  say !"  exclaimed  Stuyvesant, 
turning  about  in  the  stern-sheets  and  gazing  back 
to  shore.  "  Are  there  landing-stairs  at  the  ware 
house,  and  is  he  waiting  for  you  there?" 

"  Huh,"  nodded  Joe. 

"  Then  here,"  said  Stuyvesant,  glancing  moon- 
ward  and  noting  with  satisfaction  that  the  luminary 
was  behind  a  thick  bank  of  clouds.  "  Turn  back 
and  row  to  the  warehouse  steps.  I  want  to  look 


124  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

at  that  fellow."  So  saying,  he  quickly  threw  off 
his  uniform  coat  with  its  gleaming  shoulder-straps 
and  collar  device,  stowed  his  forage-cap  under  the 
seat,  and  sat  bareheaded  and  in  his  shirt-sleeves. 

Obedient  to  Joe's  powerful  strokes,  the  little 
boat  was  speedily  gliding  in  among  the  shadows 
of  the  sailing-ships  moored  along  the  quay,  and 
presently  her  stern  was  swung  round  to  a  flight  of 
stone  steps,  and  Stuyvesant  bounded  ashore.  Over 
at  the  boat-landing  the  electric  lights  were  gleam 
ing  and  the  sound  of  many  voices  chaffering  over 
boat-fares  was  heard.  Here  among  the  sheds  and 
warehouses  all  was  silence  and  darkness,  but  Stuy 
vesant  unhesitatingly  strode  straight  to  the  corner 
of  the  big  building  and  into  the  blackness  of  the 
westward  side,  peering  right  and  left  in  search  of 
the  skulker  who  dared  not  come  to  the  open  dock, 
yet  sought  means  of  reaching  the  Australian 
steamer. 

For  a  moment  he  could  distinguish  no  living 
object,  then  paused  to  listen,  and  within  ten 
seconds  was  rewarded.  Somewhere  close  at  hand 
between  him  and  a  low  shed  to  his  left  there  was 
the  sound  of  sudden  collision  and  a  muttered  oath. 
Some  invisible  body  had  bumped  against  some 
invisible  box,  and,  turning  sharply,  Stuyvesant 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  125 

made  a  spring,  and  the  next  instant  had  grappled 
with  some  burly,  powerful  form,  and  was  dragging 
it,  despite  furious  resistance,  towards  the  light. 

He  was  conscious  of  the  sickening  odor  of 
sour  whiskey,  of  a  volley  of  mad  threats  and  im 
precations,  of  a  stinging  blow  in  the  face  that  only 
served  to  make  him  cling  the  tighter  to  his  pris 
oner.  Then,  as  they  swayed  and  struggled  to  and 
fro,  he  felt  that  he  was  not  gaining  ground,  and 
that  this  unseen  ruffian  might  after  all  escape  him. 
He  lifted  up  his  voice  in  a  mighty  shout : 

"  Police  !     Police !     This  way  !" 

Then  he  heard  a  savage  oath,  a  sputtering,  savage 
"  Let  go,  damn  your  soul !"  and  then  felt  a  sharp, 
stinging  pang  in  the  right  side — another — another ! 
and  earth  and  sky  reeled  as  his  grasp  relaxed,  and 
with  a  moan  of  anguish  he  sank  fainting  on  the 
dock. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

VINTON'S  fleet  had  reached  Manila.  A  third  ex 
pedition  had  coaled  at  Honolulu  and  gone  on  its 
way.  More  transports  were  coming,  and  still  there 
lingered  in  this  lovely  land  of  sun  and  flowers — 
lingered  for  a  time  'twixt  life  and  death — Vinton's 
stricken  aide-de-camp,  Lieutenant  Stuyvesant. 

Of  his  brutal  antagonist  no  trace  had  been 
found.  The  shrill  cries  of  the  Kanaka  boat-boy, 
supplementing  the  young  officer's  stentorian  shout 
for  the  police,  had  brought  two  or  three  Hawaiian 
star-bearers  and  club-wielders  to  the  scene  of  that 
fierce  and  well-nigh  fatal  struggle.  All  they  found 
was  the  gallant  victim  writhing  in  pain  upon  the 
dock,  his  hand  pressed  to  his  side  and  covered 
with  the  blood  that  poured  from  his  wounds. 

It  was  half  an  hour  before  a  surgeon  reached 
them,  rowed  in  with  the  general  from  the  Van 
guard.  By  that  time  consciousness  had  fled  and, 
through  loss  of  the  vital  fluid,  Stuyvesant's  pulse 
was  well-nigh  gone.  They  bore  him  to  the  Royal 
Hawaiian,  where  a  cool  and  comfortable  room 
could  be  had,  and  there,  early  on  the  following 
126 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  127 

morning,  and  to  the  care  of  local  physicians,  the 
general  was  compelled  to  leave  him. 

With  the  brakeman  to  aid  them,  the  police 
searched  every  nook  and  corner  of  the  Miowera, 
and  without  result.  Murray,  alias  Spence,  alias 
Sackett,  fugitive  from  justice,  could  not  be  aboard 
that  ship  unless  he  had  burrowed  beneath  the  coal 
in  the  bunkers,  in  which  event  the  stokers  prom 
ised  he  should  be  shovelled  into  the  furnaces  as 
soon  as  discovered.  Every  sailor's  lodging  in  the 
town  was  ransacked,  but  to  no  purpose:  Murray 
could  not  be  found. 

For  a  fortnight  Stuyvesant's  fate  was  in  doubt. 
Officers  of  the  third  expedition  could  carry  with 
them  to  Manila  only  the  hope  that  he  might  re 
cover.  Not  until  the  ships  of  the  fourth  flotilla 
were  sighted  was  the  doctor  able  to  say  that  the 
chances  were  now  decidedly  in  his  favor. 

He  was  lifted  into  a  reclining  chair  the  day  of 
the  flag-raising — that  pathetic  ceremony  in  which, 
through  tear-dimmed  eyes,  the  people  saw  their 
old  and  much-loved  emblem  supplanted  by  the 
stars  and  stripes  of  their  new  hope  and  aspirations. 
He  was  sitting  up,  languid,  pallid,  and  grievously 
thin,  when  the  tidings  reached  him  that  the  trans 
port  with  six  troops  of  the  — th  Cavalry  among 


128  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

others  had  arrived,  and  the  doctor,  with  a  quizzical 
grin  on  his  genial  face,  informed  his  patient  that 
some  Red  Cross  nurses  were  with  the  command, 
and  that  two  very  nice-looking  young  women,  in 
their  official  caps,  aprons,  and  badges,  were  at  that 
moment  inquiring  at  the  office  if  they  could  not 
see  the  invalid  officer  and  be  of  some  service  to 
him. 

Sore  in  body  and  spirit,  wrathful  at  the  fate  that 
robbed  him  of  a  share  of  the  glory  he  felt  sure 
awaited  his  comrades  at  Manila,  Stuyvesant  was 
in  no  humor  for  a  joke  and  plainly  showed  it.  He 
gave  it  distinctly  to  be  understood  that  he  needed 
no  coddling  of  any  kind  and  preferred  not  to  see 
the  ladies,  no  matter  what  they  belonged  to.  Not 
to  put  too  fine  a  point  upon  it,  Mr.  Stuyvesant  said 
he  didn't  "  wish  to  be  bothered,"  and  this  was 
practically  the  reply  that  reached  two  very  earnest, 
kind-hearted  young  women,  for  the  attendant, 
scenting  the  possible  loss  of  a  big  fee  if  he  should 
be  supplanted  by  superior  attractions,  communi 
cated  the  invalid's  exact  words  to  the  Red  Cross 
nurses,  and  they  went  back,  wounded,  to  their 
ship. 

Stuyvesant's  room  was  on  the  ground-floor  in 
one  of  the  outlying  cottages,  and  its  Venetian 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  129 

blinds  opened  on  the  broad  and  breezy  veranda. 
It  was  far  more  quiet  and  retired  than  apartments 
in  the  main  building,  the  rooms  overhead  being 
vacant  and  the  occupants  of  that  which  adjoined 
his  having  left  for  San  Francisco  within  a  day  or 
two  of  his  coming. 

"  I  feel  too  forlorn  to  see  anybody,"  was  his 
explanation  to  the  doctor.  "  So  don't  let  anybody 
in."  But  several  officers  from  the  transport  got 
leave  to  come  ashore  and  take  quarters  at  the 
Hawaiian.  The  rooms  above  had  to  be  given  to 
them,  and  their  resounding  footsteps  made  him 
wince. 

"  There's  two  ladies  to  take  this  next-door 
room,"  said  his  garrulous  attendant  that  after 
noon,  and  Stuyvesant  thought  opprobrious  things. 
"  They'll  be  giggling  and  talking  all  night,  I  sup 
pose,"  said  he  disgustedly  when  the  "  medico" 
came  in  late  that  afternoon.  "  I  wish  you'd  move 
me,  if  you  can't  them." 

The  doctor  went  and  consulted  the  head  of  the 
house.  "  Certainly,"  said  that  affable  Boniface. 
"  If  Mr.  Stuyvesant  is  well  enough  to  be  carried 
up  one  flight  I  can  give  him  a  larger,  airier  room 
with  bath  attached,  where  he'll  be  entirely  isolated. 
It  was  too  expensive  for  our  visitors  from  the 

9 


1 3o  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

transports,  but — I  believe  you  said  Mr.  Stuyvesant 
— wouldn't  mind" — a  tentative  at  which  the  doctor 
looked  wise  and  sagely  winked. 

When  that  able  practitioner  returned  to  the 
cottage  two  young  women  with  Red  Cross  badges 
were  seated  on  the  veranda,  just  in  from  a  drive, 
apparently,  and  a  dark-eyed  little  chap  in  the  uni 
form  of  a  subaltern  of  the  cavalry  was  with  them. 
They  had  drawn  their  chairs  into  the  shade  and 
close  to  the  Venetian  blinds,  behind  which  in  his 
darkened  room  reclined  the  languid  patient. 

"  That  will  drive  him  simply  rabid,"  said  the 
doctor  to  himself,  and  prepared  a  professional 
smile  with  which  to  tell  the  glad  tidings  that  he 
should  be  borne  forthwith  to  higher  regions. 

He  had  left  Stuyvesant  peevish,  fretful,  but 
otherwise  inert,  asking  only  to  be  spared  from  in 
trusion.  He  found  him  alert,  attent,  eager,  his 
eyes  kindling,  his  cheeks  almost  flushing.  The 
instant  the  doctor  began  to  speak  the  patient 
checked  him  and  bent  his  ear  to  the  sound  of  soft 
voices  and  laughter  from  without. 

"  I've  fixed  it  all,"  whispered  the  medical  man 
reassuringly.  "We'll  move  you  in  a  minute — just 
as  soon  as  I  can  call  in  another  man  or  two,"  and 
he  started  for  the  door,  whereat  his  erratic  patient 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  131 

again  uplifted  a  hand  and  beckoned,  and  the  doctor 
tip-toed  to  his  side  and  bent  his  ear  and  looked 
puzzled,  perturbed,  but  finally  pleased.  Stuyvesant 
said  that,  thinking  it  all  over,  he  "  guessed"  he 
would  rather  stay  where  he  was. 

And  then,  when  the  doctor  was  gone,  what  did 
he  do  but  take  a  brace  in  his  chair  and  bid  the 
attendant  go  out  and  say  to  the  officer  on  the 
veranda,  Lieutenant  Ray,  that  Mr.  Stuyvesant 
would  be  very  glad  to  speak  with  him  if  he'd  be 
so  kind  as  to  come  in,  whereat  the  soft  laughter 
suddenly  ceased. 

There  was  a  sound  of  light  footsteps  going  in 
one  direction  and  a  springy,  soldierly  step  coming 
in  the  other.  Then  entered  Mr.  Sanford  Ray,  with 
outstretched  hands,  and  the  attendant,  following 
and  peering  over  his  shoulder,  marvelled  at  the 
sudden  change  that  had  come  over  his  master. 

Three  days  later,  when  the  City  of  Sacramento 
was  pronounced  ready  to  proceed,  and  the  officers 
and  Red  Cross  nurses  en  route  to  Manila  were 
warned  to  rejoin  the  ship,  Lieutenant  Stuyvesant 
"  shook,"  so  to  speak,  his  civil  physician,  persuaded 
the  army  surgeons  with  the  fleet  that  a  sea-voyage 
was  all  he  needed  to  make  a  new  man  of  him,  and 
was  carried  aboard  the  Sacramento  and  given  an 


1 32  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

airy  stateroom  on  the  upper  deck,  vacated  in  his 
favor  by  one  of  the  ship's  officers, — consideration 
not  made  public,  but  Claus  Spreckles  &  Co.,  bunk 
ers,  had  never  before  received  such  a  deposit  from 
this  very  able  seaman  in  all  the  years  he  had  been 
sailing  or  steaming  in  and  out  of  Honolulu  harbor. 
And  now  retribution  overtook  the  invalid.  The 
Red  Cross  had  made  a  marvellous  name  for  itself 
in  San  Francisco,  and  was  already  organized  and 
doing;  wonders  at  Honolulu.  Its  ministrations  had 

o 

been  gladly  accepted  by  the  scores  of  officers  and 
men  among  the  volunteers,  to  whom  the  some 
what  bare  and  crude  conditions  of  camp  hospitals 
were  doubtless  very  trying.  Women  of  gentlest 
birth  and  most  refined  associations  donned  its 
badge  and  dress  and  wrought  in  ward,  kitchen, 
or  refectory.  It  was  a  noble  and  patriotic  purpose 
that  inspired  such  sacrifice. 

It  was  a  joy  to  the  embryo  soldiery  to  be  fed 
and  comforted  day  by  day  with  the  delicacies  of 
the  Red  Cross  tables  ;  but  there  were  military 
magnates  and  martinets  who  dared  to  question 
the  wisdom  of  such  preparation  for  the  stern 
scenes  of  campaigning  ahead  of  the  volunteers, 
and  who  presumed  to  point  out  to  the  officers  of 
this  great  and  far-reaching  charity  that,  while  they 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  133 

were  most  grateful  for  such  dainties  for  the  inva 
lids  of  their  command,  the  daily  spectacle  of 
scores  of  lusty,  hearty  young  heroes  feasting  at 
the  tables  of  the  Red  Cross,  to  the  neglect  of  their 
own  simple  but  sufficient  rations,  prompted  the 
query  as  to  what  the  boys  would  do  without  the 
Red  Cross  when  they  got  into  the  field  and  couldn't 
have  cake  and  pie  and  cream  with  their  coffee. 

The  Red  Cross,  very  properly,  took  umbrage  at 
such  suggestions  and  branded  the  suggesters  as 
horrid.  The  Red  Cross  had  done  such  wide 
spread  good  and  was  ready  to  do  so  much 
more  that  criticism  of  its  methods  was  well- 
nigh  unbearable.  And  now  that  it  had  obtained 
the  sanction  of  the  government  to  send  out  to 
Manila  not  only  supplies  and  dainties  of  every 
possible  kind,  but  dozens  of  its  members  to  serve 
as  nurses  to  the  sick  and  wounded,  it  scored  a 
triumph  over  rival  organizations,  notably  the  Patri 
otic  Daughters  of  America,  whose  vice-president, 
the  austere  Miss  Perkins,  first  bombarded  the 
papers  in  vain  protest  and  denunciation,  the  Red 
Cross  being  her  main  objective,  and  with  abuse  of 
the  commanding  officers  in  camp ;  then  called  in 
person  on  the  same  officers  to  demand  transporta 
tion  to  Manila  with  the  next  expedition. 


134  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

The  Red  Cross  held  its  head  very  high,  and 
with  reason.  It  ruffled  its  feathers  and  resented 
any  slight.  It  sometimes  mistook  courteous  pro 
test  against  its  lavish  gifts  to  such  soldiers  as  were 
in  no  wise  needy  as  vicious  and  unhallowed  criti 
cism,  and  occasionally — only  occasionally — it  griev 
ously  enlarged  and  exaggerated  alleged  slights 
received  at  the  hands  of  luckless  officials.  And 
then  even  those  soft  and  shapely  hands  could  de 
velop  cat-like  claws,  and  the  soothing  voices  take 
on  an  acid  and  scathing  intonation,  and  the  eyes, 
so  ready  to  moisten  with  pity  and  sympathy  at  the 
sight  of  suffering,  could  shoot  spiteful  little  fires 
at  the  objects  of  such  divine  displeasure,  and  poor 
Stuyvesant's  petulant  words,  wrung  from  him  in  a 
moment  of  exasperation  and  never  intended  to 
reach  the  fair  band  of  sisters  of  the  Cross,  were 
piled  high  with  additions,  impolitic,  impolite,  dis 
courteous,  impudent,  intolerable,  yes,  even  profane 
and  blasphemous. 

Eleven  of  the  twelve  Red  Cross  nurses,  packed 
three  in  a  room  aboard  the  Sacramento,  swore  they 
would  not  have  anything  to  do  with  Mr.  Stuyve- 
sant.  The  twelfth,  the  one  soldier's  daughter  in 
the  band,  said  nothing  at  all. 

"  Well,  now,  Miss   Ray,  don't  you  think  it  was 


A  STORY  OF   MANILA  135 

most  discourteous,  most  ungentlemanly,  in  him  to 
send  such  a  message  ?"  demanded  a  flushed  and 
indignant  young  woman,  one  of  the  most  energetic 
of  the  sisterhood,  as  they  stood  together  on  the 
promenade  deck  in  the  shade  of  the  canvas  awn 
ings,  shunning  the  glare  of  the  August  sun. 

"  Are  you  sure  such  a  message  was  sent  ?"  was 
the  serious  reply. 

"  Sure  ?  Why,  certainly  he  did  !  and  by  his  own 
servant,  too  !"  was  the  wrathful  answer.  "  Didn't 
he,  Miss  Porter?" 

And  Miss  Porter,  the  damsel  appealed  to,  and 
one  of  the  two  nurses  who  sent  in  their  message 
from  the  office,  promptly  assented.  Miss  Ray 
looked  unconvinced. 

"  Servants,  you  know,  sometimes  deliver  mes 
sages  that  were  never  sent,"  she  answered  with 
quiet  decision.  "  We  have  seen  quite  a  little  of 
that  in  the  army,  and  it  is  my  father's  rule  to  get 
all  the  facts  before  passing  judgment.  My  brother 
thought  Mr.  Stuyvesant's  attendant  garrulous  and 
meddlesome." 

"  But  I  asked  him  if  he  was  sure  that  was  what 
Mr.  Stuyvesant  said,"  persisted  Miss  Porter,  bridling, 
"and  he  answered  they  were  just  the  very  words." 

"  And  still  I  doubt  his  having  sent  them  as  a 


136  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

message,"  said  Miss  Ray,  with  slight  access  of 
color,  and  that  evening  she  walked  the  deck  long 
with  a  happy  subaltern  and  added  to  her  unpopu 
larity. 

There  were  several  well-informed  and  pleasant 
women,  maids  and  matrons  both,  in  the  little  sis 
terhood,  but  somehow  "  the  boys"  did  not  show 
such  avidity  to  walk  or  chat  with  them  as  they  did 
with  Miss  Ray.  She  sorely  wanted  a  talk  with 
Sandy  that  evening,  but  the  Belgic  had  come  in 
from  'Frisco  only  six  hours  before  they  sailed  and 
huge  bags  of  letters  and  papers  were  transferred 
from  her  to  the  Sacramento. 

There  were  letters  for  Maidie  and  Sandy  both,— 
several, — but  there  was  one  bulky  missive  for  him 
that  she  knew  to  be  from  her  father,  from  far-away 
Tampa,  and  the  boy  had  come  down  late  to  dinner. 
They  had  seats  at  the  table  of  the  commanding 
officer,  a  thing  Maidie  had  really  tried  to  avoid,  as 
she  felt  that  it  discriminated,  somehow,  against  the 
other  nurses,  who,  except  Mrs.  Doctor  Wells,  their 
official  head,  were  distributed  about  the  other 
tables,  but  the  major  had  long  known  and  loved 
her  father,  and  would  have  it  so.  This  night, 
their  first  out  from  Honolulu,  he  had  ordered  wine 
glasses  on  the  long  table  and  champagne  served, 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  137 

and  when  dinner  was  well-nigh  over,  noticed  for 
the  first  time  that  Ray  had  turned  his  glass  down. 

"Why,  Sandy,"  he  cried  impulsively,  "it  is  just 
twenty-two  years  ago  this  summer  that  your  father 
made  the  ride  of  his  life  through  the  Indian  lines 
to  save  Wayne's  command  on  the  Cheyenne. 
Now,  there  are  just  twenty-two  of  us  here  at  table, 
and  I  wanted  to  propose  his  health  and  promotion. 
Won't  you  join  us  ?" 

The  boy  colored  to  the  roots  of  his  dark  hair. 
His  eyes  half  filled.  He  choked  and  stammered 
a  moment  and  then — back  went  the  head  with  the 
old  familiar  toss  that  was  so  like  his  father,  and 
through  his  set  lips  Sandy  bravely  spoke : 

"  Can't,  major.     I  swore  off — to-day  !" 

"  All  right,  my  boy,  that  ends  it !"  answered  the 
major  heartily,  while  Marion,  her  eyes  brimming, 
barely  touched  her  lips  to  the  glass,  and  longed  to 
be  on  Sandy's  side  of  the  table  that  she  might 
steal  a  hand  to  him  in  love  and  sympathy  and 
sisterly  pride.  But  he  avoided  even  her  when  din 
ner  was  over,  and  was  busy,  he  sent  word,  with 
troop  papers  down  between-decks,  and  she  felt, 
somehow,  that  that  letter  was  at  the  bottom  of  his 
sudden  resolution  and  longed  to  see  it,  yet  could 
not  ask. 


1 38  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

At  three  bells,  half-past  nine,  she  saw  him  com 
ing  quickly  along  the  promenade-deck,  and  she 
stopped  her  escort  and  held  out  a  detaining 
hand. 

"You'll  come  and  have  a  little  talk  with  me, 
won't  you,  Sandy  ?"  she  pleaded.  "  I'll  wait  for 
you  as  long  as  you  like." 

"  After  I've  seen  Stuyvesant  awhile,"  he  an 
swered  hurriedly.  "  He  isn't  so  well.  I  reckon 
he  must  have  overdone  it,"  and  away  he  went  with 
his  springy  step  until  he  reached  the  forward  end 
of  the  promenade,  where  he  tapped  at  the  state 
room  door.  The  surgeon  opened  it  and  admitted 
him. 

His  eyes  were  grave  and  anxious  when,  ten 
minutes  later,  he  reappeared.  "  Norris  is  with 
him,"  he  said  in  low  tone,  as  he  looked  down  into 
the  sweet,  serious,  upturned  face.  "  He  shouldn't 
have  tried  it.  He  fooled  the  doctors  completely. 
I'll  tell  you  more  presently,"  he  added,  noting  that 
Mrs.  Wells,  with  two  or  three  of  the  band,  were 
bearing  down  upon  him  for  tidings  of  the  invalid, 
and  Sandy  had  heard, — as  who  had  not  ? — the  un 
favorable  opinions  entertained  by  the  sisterhood  of 
his  luckless,  new-found  friend. 

"  The  doctor  says  he  mustn't  be  both — I  mean 


STORY   OF   MANILA  139 

disturbed — wants  to  get  him  to  sleep,  you  know," 
was  his  hurried  and  not  too  happy  response  to  the 
queries  of  the  three.  "  Matter  of  business  he 
wanted  to  ask  me  about,  that's  all,"  he  called  back, 
as  he  broke  away  and  dodged  other  inquiries. 
Once  in  the  little  box  of  a  stateroom  to  which  he 
and  a  fellow  subaltern  had  been  assigned,  he  bolted 
the  door,  turned  on  the  electric  light,  and  took 
from  under  his  pillow  a  packet  of  letters  and  sat 
him  down  to  read.  There  was  one  from  his 
mother,  written  on  her  way  back  to  Leavenworth, 
which  he  pored  over  intently  and  then  reverently 
kissed.  Later,  and  for  the  second  time,  he  unfolded 
and  read  the  longest  letter  his  father  had  ever 
penned.  It  was  as  follows  : 

"  I  have  slipped  away  from  camp  and  its  countless  interruptions 
and  taken  a  room  at  the  hotel  to-night,  dear  Sandy,  for  I  want  to 
have  a  long  talk  with  my  boy, — a  talk  we  ought  to  have  had  before, 
and  it  is  my  fault  that  we  didn't.  I  shrank  from  it  somehow,  and 
now  am  sorry  for  it. 

"  Your  frank  and  manful  letter,  telling  me  of  your  severe  loss  and 
of  the  weakness  that  followed,  reached  me  two  days  ago.  Your 
mother's  came  yesterday,  fonder  than  ever  and  pleading  for  you  as 
only  mothers  can.  It  is  a  matter  that  has  cost  us  all  dear  finan 
cially,  but,  thanks  to  that  loving  mother,  you  were  promptly  enabled 
to  cover  the  loss  and  save  your  name.  You  know  and  realize  the 
sacrifices  she  had  to  make,  and  she  tells  me  that  you  insisted  on 


1 40  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

knowing.  I  am  glad  you  did,  my  boy.  I  am  going  to  leave  in 
your  hands  the  whole  matter  of  repayment. 

"A  young  fellow  of  twenty  can  start  in  the  army  with  many  a  worse 
handicap  than  a  debt  of  honor  and  a  determination  to  work  it  off. 
That  steadies  him.  That  matter  really  gives  me  less  care  than  you 
thought  for.  It  is  the  other — your  giving  way  to  an  impulse  to 
drink — that  fills  me  with  concern.  You  come  up  like  a  man,  admit 
your  fault,  and  say  you  deserve  and  expect  my  severe  censure.  Well, 
I've  thought  it  all  over,  Sandy.  My  heart  and  my  arms  go  out  to 
you  in  your  distress  and  humiliation,  and — I  have  not  one  word  of 
reproach  or  blame  to  give  you. 

"  For  now  I  shall  tell  you  what  I  had  thought  to  say  when  your 
graduation  drew  nigh,  had  we  been  able  to  master  mechanics  and  mol 
ecules  and  other  mathematical  rot  as  useful  to  a  cavalry  officer  as  a 
binocular  to  a  blind  man,  and  that  I  ought  to  have  told  you  when 
you  started  out  for  yourself  as  a  young  ranchero,  but  could  not 
bring  myself  to  it  so  long  as  you  seemed  to  have  no  inclination  that 
way.  Times,  men,  and  customs  have  greatly  changed  in  the  last 
forty  or  fifty  years,  my  boy,  and  greatly  for  the  better.  Looking 
back  over  my  boyhood,  I  can  recall  no  day  when  wine  was  not 
served  on  your  grandfather's  table.  The  brightest  minds  and 
bravest  men  in  all  Kentucky  pledged  each  other  day  and  night  in 
the  cup  that  sometimes  cheers  and  ofttimes  inebriates,  and  no  public 
occasion  was  complete  without  champagne  and  whiskey  in  abun 
dance,  no  personal  or  private  transaction  considered  auspicious  unless 
appropriately  '  wet. ' 

"Those  were  days  when  our  statesmen  revelled  in  sentiment  and 
song,  and  drank  and  gambled  with  the  fervor  of  the  followers  of  the 
races.  I  was  a  boy  of  tender  years  then,  and  often,  with  my  play 
mates,  I  was  called  from  our  merry  games  to  join  the  gentlemen 
over  their  wine  and  drain  a  bumper  to  our  glorious  'Harry  of  the 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  141 

West,'  and  before  I  went  to  the  Point,  Sandy,  I  knew  the  best,  and 
possibly  the  worst,  whiskeys  made  in  Kentucky, — we  all  did, — and 
the  man  or  youth  who  could  not  stand  his  glass  of  liquor  was  looked 
upon  as  a  milksop  or  pitied,  and  yet,  after  all,  respected,  as  a 
'singed  cat,' — a  fellow  who  owned  that  John  Barleycorn  was  too 
much  for  him,  and  he  did  not  dare  a  single  round  with  him. 

"  Then  came  the  great  war,  and  wars  are  always  in  one  way  de 
moralizing.  West  Point  in  the  early  sixties  was  utterly  unlike  the 
West  Point  of  to-day,  and  no  worse  than  a  dozen  of  our  greatest 
colleges.  The  corps  still  had  its  tales  and  traditions  of  the  old  time 
Fourth-of-July  dinners  at  the  mess  hall,  when  everybody  made  a 
dash  for  the  decanters  and  drank  everything  in  sight.  It  was  the 
only  day  in  the  year  on  which  wine  was  served.  It  was  in  my  time 
the  invariable  custom  for  the  superintendent  to  receive  the  Board  of 
Visitors  on  the  day  of  their  arrival  at  his  quarters  and  to  invite  the 
officers  and  the  graduating  class  to  meet  them,  and  to  set  forth,  as 
for  years  had  been  the  fashion  at  Washington,  wine  and  punch  in 
abundance,  and  the  very  officers  detailed  as  our  instructors  would 
laughingly  invite  and  challenge  the  youngsters  so  soon  to  shed  the 
gray  and  wear  the  blue  to  drink  with  them  again  and  again.  I 
have  seen  dozens  of  the  best  and  bravest  of  our  fellows  come  reel 
ing  and  shouting  back  to  barracks,  and  a  thoughtless  set  of  boys 
laughing  and  applauding. 

4 '  I  was  stationed  at  the  Point  soon  after  graduation,  and  the  men 
who  drank  were  the  rule,  not  the  exception.  Social  visits  were 
rarely  exchanged  without  the  introduction  of  the  decanter.  The 
marvel  is  that  so  many  were  '  temperate  in  our  meat  and  drink,'  as 
my  father  and  grandfather  used  to  plead  when,  regularly  every  morn 
ing,  the  family  and  the  negro  servants  were  mustered  for  prayers. 
At  every  post  where  I  was  stationed,  either  in  the  East  or  where  I 
was  most  at  home, — the  far  frontier, — whiskey  was  the  established 


142  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

custom,  and  man  after  man,  fellows  who  had  made  fine  records 
during  the  war,  and  bright  boys  with  whom  I  had  worn  the  gray 
at  the  Point,  fell  by  the  wayside  and  were  court-martialled  out  of 
service. 

"  In  '70  and  '71  we  had  a  Board  that  swept  the  army  like  a  seine 
and  relegated  scores  of  tipplers  to  civil  life,  but  that  didn'  t  stop  it. 
Little  by  little  the  sense  and  manhood  of  our  people  began  to  tell. 
Little  by  little  the  feeling  against  stimulant  began  to  develop  at  the 
Point.  It  was  no  longer  a  joke  to  set  a  fledgling  officer  to  taste  the 
tempter — it  was  a  crime.  Four  years  after  I  was  commissioned  we 
had  only  one  total  abstainer  out  of  some  fifty  officers  at  the  mess, 
and  he  was  a  man  whose  life  and  honor  depended  on  it.  Three 
years  ago,  when  I  went  to  see  you,  there  were  dozens  at  the  mess 
who  never  drank  at  all,  and  only  eight  who  even  smoked.  Ath 
letics  and  rifle-practice  had  much  to  do  with  this,  I  know,  but  there 
has  gradually  developed  all  over  our  land,  notably  in  those  com 
munities  where  the  custom  used  to  be  most  honored  in  the  observ 
ance,  a  total  revulsion  of  sentiment. 

"Quarter  of  a  century  ago,  even  among  many  gently  nurtured 
women,  the  sight  of  a  man  overcome  by  liquor  excited  only  sorrow 
and  sympathy  ;  now  it  commands  nothing  less  than  abhorrence.  I 
and  my  surviving  contemporaries  started  in  life  under  the  old  system. 
You,  my  dear  boy,  are  more  fortunate  in  having  begun  with  the 
new.  Among  the  old  soldiers  there  are  still  some  few  votaries  of 
P.acchus  who  have  to  count  their  cups  most  carefully  or  risk  their 
commissions.  Among  those  under  forty  our  army  has  far  more  total 
abstainers  than  all  the  others  in  the  world,  and  such  soldiers  as 
Grant,  Crook,  Merritt,  and  Upton,  of  our  service,  and  Kitchener  of 
Khartoum,  are  on  record  as  saying  that  the  staying  powers  of  the 
teetotaller  exceed  those  even  of  the  temperate  man,  and  staying 
power  is  a  thing  to  cultivate. 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  143 

"  As  you  know,  I  have  never  banished  wine  from  our  table,  my 
boy.  Both  your  mother  and  I  had  been  accustomed  to  seeing  it  in 
daily  use  from  childhood,  yet  she  rarely  touches  it,  even  at  our 
dinners.  But,  Sanford,  I  sent  John  Barleycorn  to  the  right  abrat 
the  day  your  blessed  mother  promised  to  be  my  wife,  and  thou.  |h  I 
always  keep  it  in  the  sideboard  for  old  comrades  whose  heads  and 
stomachs  are  still  sound,  and  who  find  it  agrees  with  them  ^  -  :ter 
than  wine,  I  never  offer  it  to  the  youngsters.  They  don't  need  it, 
Sandy,  and  no  more  do  you, 

"  But  you  come  of  a  race  that  lived  as  did  their  fellow-men, — to 
whom  cards,  the  bottle,  and  betting  were  everyday  affairs.  1 1  would 
be  remarkable  if  you  never  developed  a  tendency  towards  one  or  all 
of  them,  and  it  was  my  duty  to  warn  you  before.  I  mourn  every 
hour  I  wasted  over  cards  and  every  dollar  I  ever  won  from  a  com 
rade  more  than — much  more  than — the  many  hundred  dollars  I  lost 
in  my  several  years'  apprenticeship  to  poker.  It's  just  about  the 
poorest  investment  of  time  a  soldier  can  devise. 

' '  Knowing  all  I  do,  and  looking  back  over  the  path  of  my  life, 
strewn  as  it  is  with  the  wrecks  of  fellow-men  ruined  by  whiskey,  I 
declare  if  I  could  live  it  over  again  it  would  be  with  the  determina 
tion  never  to  touch  a  card  for  money  or  a  glass  for  liquor. 

"  And  now,  my  own  boy,  let  me  bear  the  blame  of  this — your 
first  transgression.  You  are  more  to  us  than  we  have  ever  told  you. 
You  are  now  your  sister's  guardian  and  knight,  for,  though  she  goes 
under  the  wing  of  Mrs.  Dr.  Well  s,  and,  owing  to  her  intense  desire 
to  take  a  woman' s  part  we  could  not  deny  her,  both  your  mother 
and  I  are  filled  with  anxiety  as  to  the  result.  To  you  we  look  to  be 
her  shield  in  every  possible  way.  We  have  never  ceased  to  thank 
God  for  the  pride  and  joy  He  has  given  us  in  our  children.  (You 
yourself  would  delight  in  seeing  what  a  tip-top  little  soldier  Will  is 
making. )  You  have  ever  been  manful,  truthful,  and,  I  say  it  with 


144  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

pride  and  thankfulness  unutterable,  square  as  boy  could  be.  You 
have  our  whole  faith  and  trust  and  love  unspeakable.  You  have 
.lie  best  and  fondest  mother  in  the  world,  my  son.  And  now  I  have 
no*  one  more  word  to  urge  or  advise.  Think  and  decide  for  yourself. 
Yoi^r  manhood,  under  God,  will  do  the  rest. 

"  In  love  and  confidence, 

"FATHER." 

When  Marion  came  tapping  timidly  at  the  state 
room  door  there  was  for  a  moment  no  answer. 
Sandy's  face  was  buried  in  his  hands  as  he  knelt 
beside  the  little  white  berth.  He  presently  arose, 
dashed  some  water  over  his  eyes  and  brows,  then 
shot  back  the  bolt  arid  took  his  sister  in  his  arms. 


CHAPTER   X. 

NOT  until  the  tenth  day  out  from  Honolulu  was 
Mr.  Stuyvesant  so  far  recovered  as  to  warrant  the 
surgeons  in  permitting  his  being  lifted  from  the 
hot  and  narrow  berth  to  a  steamer-chair  on  the 
starboard  side.  Even  then  it  was  with  the  caution 
to  everybody  that  he  must  not  be  disturbed.  The 
heat  below  and  in  many  of  the  staterooms  was 
overpowering,  and  officers  and  soldiers  in  numbers 
slept  upon  the  deck,  and  not  a  few  of  the  Red 
Cross  nurses  spent  night  after  night  in  the  bamboo 
and  wicker  reclining-chairs  under  the  canvas 
awnings. 

Except  for  the  tropic  temperature,  the  weather 
had  been  fine  and  the  voyage  smooth  and  unevent 
ful  The  Sacramento  rolled  easily,  lazily  along. 
The  men  had  morning  shower-baths  and,  a  few  at 
a  time,  salt-water  plunges  in  big  canvas  tanks  set 
fore  and  aft  on  the  main  deck.  On  the  port  or 
southern  side  of  the  promenade  deck  the  officers 
sported  their  pajamas  both  day  and  night,  and 
were  expected  to  appear  in  khaki  or  serge,  and 
consequent  discomfort,  only  at  table,  on  drill  or 

10  145 


146  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

duty,  and  when  visiting  the  starboard  side,  which, 
abaft  the  captain's  room,  was  by  common  consent 
given  up  to  the  women. 

They  were  all  on  hand  the  morning  that  the 
invalid  officer  was  carefully  aided  from  his  state 
room  to  a  broad  reclining-chair,  which  was  then 
borne  to  a  shaded  nook  beneath  the  stairway  lead 
ing  to  the  bridge  and  there  securely  lashed.  The 
doctor  and  Mr.  Ray  remained  some  minutes  with 
him,  and  the  steward  came  with  a  cooling  drink. 
Mrs.  Wells,  doctor  by  courtesy  and  diploma,  arose 
and  asked  the  surgeon  if  there  were  really  nothing 
the  ladies  could  do — "  Mr.  Stuyvesant  looks  so 
very  pale  and  weak," — and  the  sisterhood  strained 
their  ears  for  the  reply,  which,  as  the  surgeon  re 
garded  the  lady's  remark  as  reflecting  upon  the 
results  of  his  treatment,  might  well  be  expected  to 
be  somewhat  tart. 

"  Nothing  to-day,  Mrs.— er— Dr.  Wells,"  said 
the  army  man,  half  vexed,  also,  at  being  detained 
on  way  to  hospital.  "  The  fever  has  gone  and  he 
will  soon  recuperate  now,  provided  he  can  rest 
and  sleep.  It  is  much  cooler  on  deck  and — if  it's 
only  quiet " 

"  Oh,  he  sha'n't  be  bothered,  if  that's  what  you 
mean,"  interposed  Dr.  Wells  with  proper  spirit. 


A    STORY   OF   MANILA  147 

"  I'm  sure  nobody  desires  to  intrude  in  the  least. 
I  asked  for  my  associates  from  a  sense  of  duty. 
Most  of  them  are  capable  of  fanning  or  even  read 
ing  aloud  to  a  patient  without  danger  01  over- 
exciting  him." 

"  Unquestionably,  madam,"  responded  the  sur 
geon  affably,  "and  when  such  ministrations  are 
needed  I'll  let  you  know.  Good-morning."  And, 
lifting  his  stiff  helmet,  the  doctor  darted  down  the 
companion-way. 

"Brute!"  said  the  lady  doctor.  "No  wonder 
that  poor  boy  doesn't  get  well.  Miss  Ray,  I 
marvel  that  your  brother  can  stand  him." 

Miss  Ray  glanced  quietly  up  from  her  book  and 
smiled.  "  We  have  known  Dr.  Sturgis  many 
years,"  she  said.  "  He  is  brusque,  yet  very  much 
thought  of  in  the  army." 

But  at  this  stage  of  the  colloquy  there  came 
interruption  most  merciful — for  the  surgeon.  The 
deep  whistle  of  the  steamer  sounded  three  quick 
blasts.  There  was  instant  rush  and  scurry  on  the 
lower  deck.  The  cavalry  trumpets  fore  and  aft 
rang  out  the  assembly. 

It  was  the  signal  for  boat-drill,  and  while  the  men 
of  certain  companies  sprang  to  ranks  and  stood  in 
silence  at  attention  awaiting  orders,  other  detach- 


148  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

ments  rushed  to  their  stations  at  the  life-rafts,  and 
others  still  swarmed  up  the  stairways  or  clambered 
over  the  rails,  and  in  less  than  a  minute  every  man 
was  at  his  post.  Quickly  the  staff  officers  made 
the  rounds,  received  the  reports  of  the  detachment 
commanders  and  the  boat  crews,  and  returning, 
with  soldierly  salute,  gave  the  results  to  the  com 
manding  officer,  who  had  taken  position  with  the 
captain  on  the  bridge. 

For  five  or  ten  minutes  the  upper  deck  was 
dotted  by  squads  of  blue-shirted  soldiers,  grouped 
in  disciplined  silence  about  the  boats.  Then  the 
recall  was  sounded,  and  slowly  and  quietly  the 
commands  dispersed  and  went  below. 

It  so  happened  that  in  returning  to  the  fore 
castle  about  a  dozen  troopers  passed  close  to  where 
Stuyvesant  lay,  a  languid  spectator,  and  at  sight 
of  his  pale,  thin  face  two  of  them  stopped,  raised 
their  hands  in  salute,  looked  first  eager  and 
pleased,  and  then  embarrassed.  Their  faces  were 
familiar,  and  suddenly  Stuyvesant  remembered. 
Beckoning  them  to  come  nearer,  he  feebly  spoke : 

"  You  were  in  the  car-fire.  I  thought  I  knew 
your  faces." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  was  the  instant  reply  of  the  first. 
"  We're  sorry  to  see  the  lieutenant  so  badly  hurt 


A   STORY   OF    MANILA  149 

— and  by  that  blackguard  Murray  too,  they  say. 
If  the  boys  ever  get  hold  of  him,  sir,  he'll  never 
have  time  for  his  prayers." 

"  No,  nor  another  chance  to  bite,"  grinned  the 
second,  whom  Stuyvesant  now  recognized  as  the 
lance  corporal  of  artillery.  "  He's  left  his  mark 
on  both  of  us,  sir,"  and,  so  saying,  the  soldier  held 
out  his  hand. 

In  the  soft  and  fleshy  part  of  the  palm  at  the 
base  of  the  thumb  were  the  scars  of  several 
wounds.  It  did  not  need  an  expert  eye  to  tell 
that  they  were  human-tooth  marks.  There  were 
the  even  traces  of  the  middle  incisors,  the  deep 
gash  made  by  the  fang-like  dog  tooth,  and  between 
the  mark  of  the  right  upper  canine  and  those  of 
three  incisors  a  smooth,  unscarred  space.  There, 
then,  must  have  been  a  vacancy  in  the  upper  jaw, 
a  tooth  broken  off  or  gone  entirely,  and  Stuy 
vesant  remembered  that  as  Murray  spoke  the  eye- 
tooth  was  the  more  prominent  because  of  the  ugly 
gap  beside  it. 

"  He  had  changed  the  cut  of  his  jib  consider 
ably,"  faintly  whispered  Stuyvesant,  after  he  had 
extended  a  kind  but  nerveless  hand  to  each,  "  but 
that  mark  would  betray  him  anywhere  under  any 
disguise.  Was  Foster  ever  found  ?" 


150  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

"  No,  sir.  They  sent  me  back  to  Sacramento, 
but  nobody  could  remember  having  seen  anybody 
like  him.  I'm  afraid  he  was  drowned  there  at 
Carquinez.  My  battery  went  over  with  the  third 
expedition  while  I  was  up  there.  That's  how  I 
happen  to  be  with  the  cavalry  on  this  trip."  Then 
up  went  both  hands  to  the  caps  again  and  both 
soldiers  sprang  to  attention. 

Stuyvesant,  looking  languidly  around,  saw  that 
Mr.  Ray  had  returned,  saw,  moreover,  that  his 
sister  was  leaning  on  his  arm,  her  eyes  fixed  on 
the  speaker's  weather-beaten  face.  Again  it  all 
flashed  upon  him — the  story  of  Foster's  infatuation 
for  this  lovely  girl,  his  enlistment,  and  then  his 
strange  and  unaccountable  disappearance. 

"  I'm  sorry,  men,"  interposed  Mr.  Ray  in 
pleasant  tone,  "but  the  surgeon  has  ordered  us 
not  to  talk  with  Lieutenant  Stuyvesant.  and  I 
shall  have  to  repeat  his  order  to  you.  You  were 
in  the  car  that  was  burned,  I  suppose?" 

"  Yes,  sir.  Beg  pardon — we  didn't  know  about 
the  doctor's  orders.  We're  mighty  glad  to  see  the 
lieutenant  again.  Come  'long,  Mellen." 

"  Wait,"  whispered  Stuyvesant.  "  Come  and  see 
me  again.  I  want  to  talk  with  you,  and — thank 
you  for  stopping  to-day." 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  151 

The  soldiers  departed  happy,  and  Stuyvesant 
turned  wistfully  to  greet  Miss  Ray.  She  was  al 
ready  beyond  reach  of  his  voice,  leaning  on  Sandy's 
arm  and  gazing  steadfastly  into  his  face.  He 
saw  Mrs.  Dr.  Wells  coming  swiftly  towards  him  with 
inquiry  in  her  eyes,  and  impulsively,  peevishly,  and 
in  disappointment  he  turned  again  his  face  to  the 
wall,  as  it  were.  At  least  that  was  not  the  Red 
Cross  nurse  he  longed  for,  good  and  sympathetic 
and  wise  in  her  way  as  she  undoubtedly  was. 

He  wished  now  with  all  his  heart  that  they  had 
placed  his  chair  so  that  he  could  look  back  along 
the  promenade  deck  instead  of  forward  over  the 
forecastle  at  the  sparkling  sea.  He  felt  that,  pacing 
up  and  down  together,  the  brother  and  sister  must 
come  within  ten  feet  of  his  chair  before  they  turned 
back,  and  he  longed  to  look  at  her,  yet  could  not. 
Sturgis  had  said  he  would  return  in  a  few  minutes, 
and  he  hadn't  come.  Stuyvesant  felt  aggrieved. 
It  would  be  high  noon  before  many  minutes.  Al 
ready  the  ship  officers  were  on  the  bridge  ready  to 
"  take  the  sun,"  and  mess-call  for  the  men  was 
sounding  on  the  lower  decks.  He  would  give  a 
fortune,  thought  he,  to  feel  once  more  that  cool, 
soft,  slender  little  hand  on  his  forehead.  There 
were  other  hands,  some  that  were  certainly  whiter 


152  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

than  Miss  Ray's,  and  probably  quite  as  soft  and 
cool,  hands  that  before  the  report  of  his  slur  upon 
the  Red  Cross  would  gladly  have  ministered  to  him, 
but  he  shrank  from  thought  of  any  touch  but  one. 
He  would  have  given  another  fortune,  if  he  had  it, 
could  Marion  Ray  but  come  and  sit  by  him  and 
talk  in  her  cordial,  pleasant  tones.  There  were 
better  talkers,  wittier,  brighter  women  within  hail 
— women  who  kept  their  hearers  laughing  much 
of  the  time,  which  Miss  Ray  did  not,  yet  he  shrank 
from  the  possibility  of  one  of  their  number  accost 
ing  him. 

Twice  he  was  conscious  that  Dr.  Wells  and  Miss 

• 

Porter  had  tip-toed  close  and  were  peering  inter 
estedly  at  him,  but  he  shut  his  eyes  and  would  not 
see  or  hear.  He  did  not  "  want  to  be  bothered," 
it  was  only  too  evident,  and  as  the  ship's  bell 
chimed  the  hour  of  noon  and  the  watch  changed, 
his  would-be  visitors  slipped  silently  away  and  he 
was  alone. 

When  the  doctor  came  cautiously  towards  him 
a  few  minutes  later,  Stuyvesant  was  to  all  appear 
ances  sleeping,  and  the  "  medico"  rejoiced  in  the 
success  of  his  scheme.  When,  not  five  minutes 
after  the  doctor  peeped  at  him,  the  voice  of  the 
captain  was  heard  booming  from  the  bridge  just 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  153 

over  the  patient's  pillowed  head,  it  developed  that 
the  patient  was  wide  awake.  Perhaps  what  the 
captain  said  would  account  for  this. 

A  dozen  times  on  the  voyage  that  mariner  had 
singled  out  Miss  Ray  for  some  piece  of  attention. 
Now,  despite  the  fact  that  almost  the  entire  Red 
Cross  party  were  seated  or  strolling  or  reclining 
there  under  the  canvas  awning  and  he  must  have 
known  it,  although  they  were  hidden  from  his 
view,  he  again  made  that  young  lady  the  object  of 
his  homage.  She  was  at  the  moment  leaning  over 
the  rail,  with  Sandy  by  her  side,  gazing  at  the  dark 
blue,  beautiful  waters  that,  flashing  and  foam- 
crested,  went  sweeping  beneath  her.  The  monarch 
of  the  ship,  standing  at  the  outer  end  of  the  bridge, 
had  caught  sight  of  her  and  gave  tongue  at  once. 
A  good  seaman  was  the  captain  and  a  stalwart 
man,  but  he  knew  nothing  of  tact  or  discretion. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Ray,"  he  bawled,  "  come  up  on  the 
bridge  and  I'll  show  you  the  chart.  Bring  the 
lieutenant." 

For  an  instant  she  hesitated,  reluctant.  Not  even 
the  staff  of  the  commanding  officer  had  set  foot 
on  that  sacred  perch  since  the  voyage  began,  only 
when  especially  bidden  or  at  boat  or  fire  drill  did 
that  magnate  himself  presume  to  ascend  those 


154  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

stairs.  As  for  her  sister  nurses,  though  they  had 
explored  the  lower  regions  and  were  well  acquainted 
with  the  interior  arrangement  of  the  Sacramento, 
and  were  consumed  with  curiosity  and  desire  to  see 
what  was  aloft  on  the  hurricane-deck,  the  stern 
prohibition  still  staring  at  them  in  bold,  brazen 
letters,  "  Passengers  are  Forbidden  upon  the  Bridge," 
had  served  to  restrain  the  impulse  to  climb. 

And  now  here  was  Captain  Butt  singling  out 
Miss  Ray  again  and  ignoring  the  rest  of  them.  If 
she  could  have  found  any  reasonable  excuse  for 
refusing  Maidie  Ray  would  have  declined.  But 
Sandy's  eyes  said  "  Come."  Butt  renewed  his  in 
vitation.  She  turned  and  looked  appealingly  at 
Mrs.  Wells,  as  though  to  say  "  What  shall  I  do  ?" 
but  that  matron  was  apparently  engrossed  in  a 
volume  of  Stevenson,  and  would  not  be  drawn 
into  the  matter,  and  finally  Marion  caught  Miss 
Porter's  eye.  There,  at  least,  was  a  gleam  of  en 
couragement  and  sympathy.  Impulsive  and  ca 
pricious  as  that  young  woman  could  be  on  occa 
sions,  the  girl  had  learned  to  appreciate  the  genuine 
qualities  of  her  room-mate,  and  of  late  had  been 
taking  sides  for  Marion  against  the  jealousies  of 
her  fellows. 

"Why  don't  you   go?"  she  murmured,  with  a 


A  STORY  OF  MANILA  155 

nod  of  her  head  towards  the  stairs,  and  with 
slightly  heightened  color,  Miss  Ray  smiled  accept 
ance  at  the  captain,  and,  following  Sandy's  lead 
through  the  labyrinth  of  steamer-chairs  about  them, 
tripped  briskly  away  over  the  open  deck,  and  there, 
at  the  very  foot  of  the  steep,  ladder-like  ascent, 
became  aware  of  Mr.  Stuyvesant  leaning  on  an 
elbow  and  gazing  at  her  with  all  his  big  blue  eyes. 

She  had  to  stop  and  go  around  under  the  stairs 
and  take  his  thin,  outstretched  hand.  She  had  to 
stop  a  moment  to  speak  to  him,  though  what  he 
said,  or  she  said,  neither  knew  a  moment  after. 
All  she  was  conscious  of  as  she  turned  away  was 
that  now  at  least  every  eye  in  all  the  sisterhood 
was  on  her,  and,  redder  than  ever,  she  fairly  flew 
up  the  steep  steps,  and  was  welcomed  by  the  chiv- 
alric  Butt  upon  the  bridge. 

That  afternoon  several  of  the  Band  were  what 
Miss  Porter  was  constrained  to  call  "  nastily  snip 
py"  in  their  manner  to  her,  and,  feeling  wronged 
and  misjudged,  it  was  not  to  be  wondered  at  that 
her  father's  daughter  should  resent  it.  And  yet 
so  far  from  exulting  in  having  thus  been  distin 
guished  and  recognized  above  her  fellows,  Miss 
Ray  had  felt  deeply  embarrassed,  and  almost  the 
first  words  she  said  after  receiving  the  bluff  sea- 


156  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

man's  effusive  greeting  were  in  plea  for  her  asso 
ciates. 

"  Oh,  Captain  Butt,  it's  most  kind  of  you  to  ask 
me  up  here — and  my  brother,  too,  will  be  so 
interested  in  the  chart-room,  but,  can't  you — 
won't  you  ask  Dr.  Wells  and  at  least  some  of  the 
ladies?  You  know  they  all  would  be  glad  to  come, 
and " 

"  That's  all  right,  Miss  Ray,"  bawled  old  Butt, 
breaking  in  on  her  hurried  words.  "  I'll  ask  'em  up 
here  some  other  time.  You  see  we're  rolling  a  bit 
to-day,  and  like  as  not  some  of  'em  would  pitch 
over  things,  and — and — well,  there  ain't  room  for 
more'n  three  at  a  time  anyhow." 

"  Then  you  ought  to  have  asked  Dr.  Wells  first 
and  some  of  the  seniors." — She  hesitated  about 
saying  elders. — No  one  of  the  Band  would  have 
welcomed  an  invitation  tendered  on  account  of  her 
advanced  years. 

"  It'll  be  just  as  bad  if  I  go  and  ask  her  now," 
said  Butt  testily.  "  The  others  will  take  offence, 
and  life's  too  short  for  a  shipmaster  to  be  explain 
ing  to  a  lot  of  women  why  they  can't  all  come  at 
once  on  the  bridge.  I'll  have  'em  up  to-morrow — 
any  three  you  say." 

But  when  the  morrow  came  he  didn't  "  have  'em 


A   STORY   OF    MANILA  157 

up."  Maidie  had  pleaded  loyally  for  her  associates, 
but  was  too  proud  or  sensitive  to  so  inform  them 
The  captain  had  said  he  would  do  that,  and  mean 
while  she  tried  not  to  feel  exasperated  at  the  in 
jured  airs  assumed  by  several  of  the  Band  and 
the  cutting  remarks  of  one  or  two  of  their  number. 
That  afternoon,  however,  the  skies  became  over 
cast  and  the  wind  rose.  That  night  the  sea  dashed 
high  towards  the  rail  and  the  Sacramento  wallowed 
deep  in  the  surges.  Next  morning  the  wind  had 
freshened  to  a  gale.  All  air-ports  were  closed. 
The  spray  swept  the  promenade  deck  along  the 
starboard  side  and  the  Red  Cross  and  two-thirds 
of  the  martial  passenger-list  forgot  all  minor  ills 
and  annoyances  in  the  miseries  of  mat  de  mer. 
Three  days  and  nights  were  most  of  the  women 
folk  cooped  in  their  cabins,  but  Miss  Ray  was  an 
old  sailor  and  had  twice  seen  far  heavier  weather 
on  the  Atlantic.  Sheltered  from  the  rain  by  the 
bridge-deck  and  from  the  spray  and  gale  by  heavy 
canvas  lashed  athwartship  in  front  of  the  captain's 
room,  and  securely  strapped  in  her  reclining-chair, 
this  young  lady  fairly  rejoiced  in  the  magnificent 
battle  with  the  elements  and  gloried  in  the  burst 
ing  seas.  Sandy,  too,  albeit  a  trifle  upset,  was  able 
to  be  on  deck,  and  one  of  the  "  subs"  from  the 


158  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

port-side  hearing  of  it,  donned  his  outer  garments 
and  cavalry  boots  and  joined  forces  with  them, 
and  Stuyvesant,  hearing  their  merry  voices,  de 
clared  that  he  could  not  breathe  in  his  stuffy  cabin 
and  demanded  to  be  dressed  and  borne  out  on 
deck  too.  At  first  the  surgeon  said  no,  whereupon 
his  patient  began  to  get  worse. 

So  on  the  second  day  the  doctor  yielded,  and 
all  that  day  and  the  third  of  the  storm,  by  which 
time  the  starboard  deck  was  slowly  becoming 
peopled  v/ith  a  few  spectral  and  barely  animate 
feminine  shapes,  Stuyvesant  reclined  within  arm's 
length  of  the  dark-eyed  girl  who  had  so  entranced 
him,  studying  her  beauty,  drinking  in  her  words, 
and  gaining  such  health  and  strength  in  the  life- 
giving  air  and  such  bliss  from  the  association  that 
Sturgis  contemplated  with  new  complacency  the 
happy  result  of  his  treatment,  for  when  the  gale 
subsided,  and  on  the  fourth  day  they  ran  once 
more  into  smooth  and  lazy  waters,  it  was  Stuyve- 
sant's  consuming  desire  to  take  up  his  bed  and 
walk,  except  when  Miss  Ray  was  there  to  talk  or 
read  to  him. 

And  this  was  the  state  of  affairs  when  the  Sacra 
mento  hove  in  sight  of  the  bold  headlands,  green 
and  beautiful,  that  front  the  sea  at  the  northeast 


A   STORY   OF    MANILA  159 

corner  of  mountainous  Luzon.  Once  within 
soundings  and  close  to  a  treacherous  shore,  with 
only  Spanish  authority  to  rely  on  as  to  rocks, 
reefs,  and  shoals,  no  wonder  old  Butt  could  have 
no  women  on  the  bridge,  this,  too,  at  the  very  time 
they  most  wished  to  be  there,  since  everything  worth 
seeing  lay  on  the  port  or  southern  side,  and  that 
given  up  to  those  horrid  officers  and  their 
pajamas. 

Not  until  his  anchor  dropped  in  Manila  Bay  did 
the  master  of  the  Sacramento  think  to  redeem  his 
promise  to  bid  the  ladies  of  the  Red  Cross  to  the 
sacred  bridge,  and  incidentally  to  tell  them  how 
Miss  Ray  had  urged  it  in  their  behalf  while  they 
were  out  on  blue  waters,  but  now  it  was  too  late. 


CHAPTER    XL 

IT  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  the  Sacra 
mento,  slowly  feeling  her  way  southward,  had 
come  within  view  of  El  Fraile  and  Corregidor, 
looming  up  like  sentinels  at  the  entrance  to  the 
great,  far-spreading  bay. 

Butt  and  his  assistants,  with  the  field  officer  in 
command  of  the  troops,  peered  through  their 
binoculars  or  telescopes  for  sign  of  cruiser  or 
transport  along  the  rocky  shores,  and  marvelled 
much  that  none  could  be  seen.  Over  against  the 
evening  sun  just  sinking  to  the  west  the  dim  out 
lines  of  the  upper  masts  and  spars  of  some  big 
vessel  became  visible  for  three  minutes,  then  faded 
from  view.  The  passengers  swarmed  on  deck, 
silent,  anxious,  ever  and  anon  gazing  upward  at 
the  bridge  as  though  in  hope  of  a  look  or  word 
of  encouragement. 

It  was  midsummer  and  more  when  they  left 
Honolulu,  and  by  this  time  the  American  force, 
land  and  naval,  in  front  of  Manila  ought  to  be 
ample  to  overcome  the  Spaniards.  But  there  was 
ever  that  vexing  problem  as  to  what  Aguinaldo 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  161 

and  his  followers  might  do  rather  than  see  the 
great  city  given  over  to  the  Americans  for  law  and 
order  instead  of  to  themselves  for  loot  and  rapine. 
The  fact  that  all  coast  lights  thus  far  were  extin 
guished  was  enough  to  convince  the  Sacramento's 
voyagers  that  they  were  still  unwelcome  to  the 
natives,  but  both  the  shipmaster  and  the  cavalry 
officer  commanding  had  counted  on  finding  cruiser, 
or  despatch  boat  at  least,  on  lookout  for  them  and 
ready  to  conduct  them  to  safe  anchorage.  But  no 
such  ship  appeared,  and  the  alternative  of  going 
about  and  steaming  out  to  sea  for  the  night  or 
dropping  anchor  where  he  lay  was  just  presenting 
itself  to  Butt  when  from  the  lips  of  the  second 
officer,  who  had  clambered  up  the  shrouds,  there 
came  the  joyous  shout:  "By  Jove!  There's  Cor- 
regidor  light !" 

Surely  enough,  even  before  the  brief  tropic 
twilight  was  over  and  darkness  had  settled  down, 
away  to  the  southward,  at  regular  ten-second  in 
tervals,  from  the  crest  of  the  rock-bound,  crumb 
ling  parapet  on  Corregidor  Island,  a  brilliant  light 
split  the  cloudy  vista  and  flashed  a  welcome  to  the 
lone  wanderer  on  the  face  of  the  waters.  It  could 
mean  only  one  thing:  Manila  Bay  was  dominated 
by  Dewey's  guns.  The  Yankee  was  master  of  Cor- 

ii 


162  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

regidor,  and  had  possessed  himself  of  both  fort 
and  light-house.  In  all  probability  Manila  itself 
had  fallen. 

"  Half  speed  ahead !"  was  the  order,  and  again 
the  throb  of  the  engines  went  pulsing  through  the 
ship,  and  the  Sacramento  slowly  forged  ahead  over 
a  smooth  summer  sea.  At  midnight  the  pilot  and 
glad  tidings  were  aboard,  and  at  dawn  the  decks 
were  thronged  with  eager  voyagers,  and  a  great, 
full-throated  cheer  went  up  from  the  forecastle 
head  as  the  gray,  ghost-like  shapes  of  the  war 
ships  loomed  up  out  of  the  mist  and  dotted  the 
unruffled  surface. 

But  that  cheer  sank  to  nothingness  beside  one 
which  followed  fifteen  minutes  later,  when  the  red 
disk  of  the  sun  came  peeping  over  the  low,  fog- 
draped  range  far  to  the  eastward  and,  saluted  by 
the  boom  of  the  morning  gun  from  the  battlements 
of  the  old  city,  there  sailed  to  the  peak  of  the 
lofty  flag-staff  the  brilliant  colors  and  graceful 
folds  of  the  stars  and  stripes. 

The  three-century  rule  of  Castile  and  Aragon 
was  ended.  The  yellow  and  red  of  Spain  was 
supplanted  by  the  scarlet,  white,  and  blue  of 
America,  and  in  a  new  glory  of  its  own  "  Old 
Glory"  unfolded  to  the  faintly  rising  breeze,  and 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  163 

all  along  the  curving  shore  and  over  the  placid 
waters  rang  out  the  joyous,  life-giving,  heart- 
stirring  notes  of  the  Yankee  reveille. 

For  long  hours  later  there  came  launches, 
bancas,  and  cascoes  from  fleet  and  shore.  The 
debarkation  of  the  cavalry  began  in  the  afternoon. 
They  had  left  their  horses  at  the  Presidio,  six 
thousand  miles  away,  and  were  troopers  only  in 
name.  The  officers  who  came  as  passengers  got 
ashore  in  the  course  of  the  day  and  made  their 
way  to  the  Ayuntamiento  to  report  their  arrival 
and  receive  their  assignments. 

The  Red  Cross  nurses  looked  in  vain  for  the 
hospital  launch  that,  it  was  supposed,  would 
hasten  to  convey  them  to  comfortable  quarters 
adjoining  the  sick-wards  or  convalescent  camps. 
They  listened  with  the  deepest  interest  to  the 
description  of  the  assault  of  the  I3th  of  August 
that  made  Merritt  master  of  Manila,  and  the 
elders,  masculine  and  feminine,  who  knew  some 
thing  of  what  battle  meant  when  American  was 
pitted  against  American,  looked  at  each  other  in 
wonderment  as  they  heard  how  much  had  been 
won  at  cost  of  so  little. 

Sandy  Ray,  kissing  Marion  good-by  and  prom 
ising  to  see  Stuyvesant  in  the  near  future,  went 


1 64  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

over  the  side  with  his  troop  and,  landing  at  the 
stone  dock  at  the  foot  of  the  Paseo  de  Santa 
Lucia,  found  himself  trudging  along  at  the  head 
of  his  men  under  massive  walls  nearly  three  cen 
turies  old,  bristling  with  antiquated,  highly  orna 
mented  Spanish  guns,  and  streaked  with  slime  and 
vegetation,  while  along  the  high  parapets  across 
the  moat  thousands  of  Spanish  soldiers  squatted 
and  stared  at  them  in  sullen  apathy. 

Maidie's  knight  and  champion  indeed  !  His 
duty  called  him  with  his  fellows  to  a  far-away 
suburb  up  the  Pasig  River.  Her  duty  held  her  to 
await  the  movements  of  the  sisterhood,  and  what 
she  might  lack  for  sympathy  among  them  was 
made  up  in  manifest  yet  embarrassing  interest  on 
part  of  the  tall  young  aide-de-camp,  for  Stuyves- 
ant  was  bidden  to  remain  aboard  ship  until  suit 
able  accommodation  could  be  found  for  him 
ashore. 

Under  any  other  circumstances  he  would  have 
objected  vehemently,  but,  rinding  that  the  Red 
Cross  contingent  was  to  share  his  fate,  and  that 
Miss  Ray  was  one  of  the  dozen  condemned  to 
remain,  he  bore  his  enforced  lot  with  Christian 
and  soldierly  resignation. 

"  Only,"  said    Dr.   Wells,  "  one  would    suppose 


A  STORY  OF  MANILA  165 

that  the  Red  Cross  was  entitled  to  some  consider 
ation,  and  that  all  preparation  would  have  been 
made  for  our  coming."  It  was  neither  flattering 
nor  reassuring,  nor,  indeed,  was  it  kind,  that  they 
should  be  so  slighted,  said  the  sisterhood  that 
evening;  but  worse  still  was  in  store,  for  on  the 
morrow,  early,  the  Esmeralda  came  steaming  in 
from  Hong  Kong,  where,  despite  her  roundabout 
voyage,  the  Belgic  had  arrived  before  the  slow- 
moving  Sacramento  had  rounded  the  northern 
point  of  Luzon,  and,  on  the  deck  of  the  Esmeralda 
as  she  steered  close  alongside  the  transport,  and 
thence  on  the  unimpeded  way  to  her  moorings  up 
the  Pasig,  in  plain  view  of  the  sisterhood,  tall, 
gaunt,  austere,  but  triumphant,  towered  the  form 
of  the  vice-president  of  the  Patriotic  Daughters  of 
America. 

For  two  days  more  the  Sacramento  remained  at 
anchor  in  the  bay  over  a  mile  from  the  mouth  of 
the  river,  and  for  two  days  and  nights  the  Red 
Cross  remained  aboard,  unsought,  unsummoned 
from  the  shore.  The  situation  became  more 
strained  than  ever,  the  only  betterment  arising 
from  the  fact  that  now  there  was  more  space  and 
the  nurses  were  no  longer  crowded  three  in  a  room. 
Mrs.  Dr.  Wells  moved  into  that  recently  vacated 


166  RAY'S  DAUGHTER 

by  the  cavalry  commander,  and  Miss  Ray  and  her 
now  earnest  friend,  Miss  Porter,  were  relieved  by 
the  desertion  of  their  eldest  sister,  who  pre-empted 
a  major's  stateroom  on  the  upper  deck. 

Butt  stirred  up  a  new  trouble  by  promptly 
coming  to  Miss  Ray  and  bidding  her  move  out 
of  that  stuffy  hole  below  and  take  Major  Horton's 
quarters,  and  bring  Miss  Porter  with  her  "  if  that 
was  agreeable." 

It  would  have  been,  very,  but  "  Miss  Ray's 
head  was  level,"  as  the  purser  put  it,  and  despite 
the  snippy  and  exasperating  conduct  of  most  of 
the  sisterhood,  that  wise  young  woman  pointed 
out  to  the  shipmaster  that  theirs  was  a  semi- 
military  organization,  and  that  the  senior,  Mrs.  Dr. 
Wells,  and  one  or  two  veteran  nurses  should  have 
choice  of  quarters. 

By  this  time  Miss  Porter's  vehement  champion 
ship  of  her  charming  and  much  misjudged  friend 
had  excited  no  little  rancor  against  herself.  The 
more  she  proved  that  they  had  done  Miss  Ray 
injustice,  the  less  they  liked  Miss  Ray's  advocate. 
It  is  odd  but  true  that  many  a  woman  finds  it  far 
easier  to  forgive  another  for  being  as  wicked  as  she 
has  declared  her  to  be  than  for  proving  herself 
entirely  innocent. 


A  STORY  OF  MANILA  167 

One  thing,  anyhow,  Miss  Porter  couldn't  deny, 
said  the  sisterhood, — she  was  accepting  devoted 
attentions  from  Mr.  Stuyvesant,  and  in  her  capacity 
as  a  Red  Cross  nurse  that  was  inexcusable. 

"  Fudge !"  said  Miss  Porter.  "  If  it  were  you 
instead  of  Miss  Ray  he  was  in  love  with,  how 
long  would  you  let  your  badge  keep  him  at  a 
distance?" 

The  sun  went  down  on  their  unappeased  wrath 
that  second  night  in  Manila  Bay,  and  with  the 
morrow  came  added  cause  for  disapprobation. 
Before  the  noon  hour  a  snow-white  launch  with 
colors  flying  fore  and  aft  steamed  alongside,  and 
up  the  stairs,  resplendent,  came  Stuyvesant's  gen 
eral  with  a  brace  of  staff  officers,  all  three  pre 
cipitating  themselves  on  the  invalid  and,  after  brief 
converse  with  him,  all  three  sending  their  cards  to 
Miss  Ray,  who  had  taken  refuge  on  the  other 
deck. 

And  even  while  she  sat  reflecting  what  would  be 
the  wiser  course,  the  general  himself  followed  the 
card-bearer,  and  that  distinguished  warrior,  with  all 
the  honors  of  his  victorious  entry  fresh  upon  him, 
inclined  his  handsome  head  and  begged  that  he 
might  present  himself  to  the  daughter  of  an  old 
and  cherished  friend  of  cadet  days,  and  seated 


168  RAY'S  DAUGHTER 

himself  by  her  side  with  hardly  a  glance  at  the 
array  of  surrounding  femininity  and  launched  into 
reminiscence  of"  Billy  Ray"  as  he  was  always  called, 
and  it  was  some  little  time  before  she  could  say, — 

"  Will  you  let  me  present  you  to  Dr.  Wells, 
who  is  practically  my  commanding  officer?"  a 
request  the  general  was  too  much  of  a  gentleman 
not  to  accede  to  at  once,  yet  looked  not  too  much 
pleased  when  he  was  led  before  that  commanding 
dame,  and  then  distinctly  displeased  as,  taking  ad 
vantage  of  her  opportunity,  the  indignant  lady 
burst  forth  with  her  grievance : 

11  Oh  !  This  is  General  Vinton  !  Well,  I  must 
say  that  I  think  you  generals  have  treated  the 
ladies  of  the  Red  Cross  with  precious  little  cour 
tesy.  Here  we've  been  waiting  thirty-six  hours, 
and  not  a  soul  has  come  near  us  or  shown  us 
where  to  go  or  told  us  what  to  do,  while  every 
body  else  aboard  is  looked  after  at  once." 

"  It  is  a  matter  entirely  out  of  my  jurisdiction, 
madame,"  answered  the  general  with  grave  and 
distant  dignity.  "  In  fact,  I  knew  nothing  of  the 
arrival  of  any  such  party  until,  at  the  commanding 
general's  this  morning,  your  vice-president — is  it  ? 
— was  endeavoring  to " 

"  Our  vice-president,  sir,      interposed    the    lady 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  169 

promptly,  "  is  in  San  Francisco,  attending  to  her 
proper  functions.  The  person  you  saw  is  not  rec 
ognized  by  the  Red  Cross  at  all,  nor  by  any  one  in 
authority  that  /  know  of." 

General  Vinton  reddened.  A  soldier,  accus 
tomed  to  the  "  courtesies  indispensable  among  mili 
tary  men,"  ill  brooks  it  that  a  stranger  and  a 
woman  should  take  him  to  task  for  matters  be 
yond  his  knowledge  or  control. 

"  You  will  pardon  me  if  in  my  ignorance  of  the 
matter  I  fancied  the  lady  in  question  to  be  a  repre 
sentative  of  your  order,  and  for  suggesting  that  the 
chief  surgeon  is  the  official  to  whom  you  should 
address  your  complaint — and  rebukes.  Good- 
morning,  madame.  Miss  Ray,"  he  continued,  as 
he  quickly  turned  and  led  that  young  lady  away, 
"  two  of  my  staff  desire  to  be  presented.  May  I 
have  the  pleasure  ?" 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  general's  disappro 
bation  of  the  official  head  of  the  sisterhood  as 
represented  on  the  Sacramento.  Though  he  and 
his  officers  remained  aboard  an  hour,  not  once 
again  would  he  look  towards  Dr.  Wells  or  seem  to 
see  any  of  the  party  but  Miss  Ray, — this,  too, 
despite  the  fact  that  she  tried  to  explain  matters 
and  pour  oil  on  such  troubled  waters. 


170  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

Captain  Butt  sent  up  champagne  to  the  distin 
guished  party,  and  Miss  Ray  begged  to  be  ex 
cused  and  slipped  away  to  her  stateroom,  only  to 
be  instantly  recalled  by  other  cards — Colonel  and 
Mrs.  Brent,  other  old  friends  of  her  father  and 
mother.  She  remembered  them  well,  and  remem 
bered  having  heard  how  Mrs.  Brent  had  braved  all 
opposition  and  had  started  for  Hong  Kong  the 
day  after  the  colonel  steamed  for  Manila ;  and  their 
coming  with  most  hospitable  intent  only  added  to 
the  poor  girl's  perplexities,  for  they  showered  wel 
comes  upon  her  and  bade  her  get  her  luggage  up 
at  once.  They  had  come  to  take  her  to  their  own 
roof.  They  had  secured  such  a  quaint,  roomy 
house  in  Ermita  right  near  the  bay  shore,  and 
looking  right  out  on  the  Luneta  and  the  parade 
grounds. 

They  stormed  at  her  plea  that  she  must  not 
leave  her  companions.  They  bade  her  send  for 
Miss  Porter,  and  included  her  in  their  warm 
hearted  invitation;  but  by  the  time  Maidie  was 
able  to  get  a  word  in  edgewise  on  her  own  ac 
count,  and  begged  them  to  come  and  meet  Mrs. 
Dr.  Wells  and  the  Red  Cross  sisterhood,  they 
demurred. 

The  general,  in  Marion's  brief  absence,  had  ex- 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  171 

pressed  his  opinion  of  that  official  head,  and  the 
Brents  had  evidently  accepted  his  views.  Then 
Vinton  and  his  officers  loudly  begged  Mrs.  Brent 
to  play  chaperon  and  persuade  Miss  Ray  and  Miss 
Porter  to  accompany  them  in  their  fine  white 
launch  on  a  visit  to  the  admiral  on  the  flag-ship, 
and  said  nothing  about  others  of  the  order. 

The  idea  of  seeing  Dewey  on  his  own  deck  and 
being  shown  all  over  the  Olympia !  Why,  it  was 
glorious !  But  Miss  Ray  faltered  her  refusal,  even 
against  Miss  Porter's  imploring  eyes.  Then  Stuy- 
vesant  declared  he  didn't  feel  up  to  it. 

The  general  went  off  to  the  fleet  and  the  Brents 
back  to  shore  without  the  girls.  But  in  the  course 
of  the  afternoon  four  more  officers  came  to  tender 
their  services  to  "  Billy  Ray's  daughter,"  and  none, 
not  even  a  hospital  steward,  came  to  do  aught  for 
the  Red  Cross,  and  by  sundown  Maidie  Ray  had 
every  assurance  that  the  most  popular  girl  at  that 
moment  in  Manila  army  circles  was  the  least  popu 
lar  aboard  the  Sacramento,  and  Kate  Porter  cried 
herself  to  sleep  after  an  out-and-out  squabble  with 
two  of  the  Band,  and  the  emphatic  assertion  that 
if  she  were  Marion  Ray  she  would  cut  them  all 
dead  and  go  live  with  her  friends  ashore. 

But  when  the  morrow  came  was  it  to  be  won- 


172  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

dered  at  that  Miss  Ray  had  developed  a  high 
fever?  Was  it  not  characteristic  that  before  noon, 
from  the  official  head  down,  from  Dr.  Wells  to 
Dottie  Fellows,  the  most  diminutive  of  the  party, 
there  lived  not  a  woman  of  their  number  who  was 
not  eager  in  tender  of  services  and  in  desire  to  be 
at  the  sufferer's  bedside  ?  Was  it  not  manlike  that 
Stuyvesant,  who  had  shunned  the  sisterhood  for 
days,  now  sought  the  very  women  he  had  scorned, 
and  begged  for  tidings  of  the  girl  he  loved  ? 


CHAPTER   XII. 

OCTOBER  had  come  and  the  rainy  season  was 
going,  but  still  the  heat  of  the  mid-day  sun  drove 
everybody  within  doors  except  the  irrepressible 
Yankee  soldiery,  released  "  on  pass"  from  routine 
duty  at  inner  barracks  or  outer  picket  line,  and 
wandering  about  this  strange,  old-world  metropolis 
of  the  Philippines,  reckless  of  time  or  temperature 
in  their  determination  to  see  everything  there  was 
to  be  seen  about  the  whilom  stronghold  of  "  the 
Dons"  in  Asiatic  waters. 

Along  the  narrow  sidewalks  of  the  Escolta, 
already  bordered  by  American  signs — and  saloons, 
— and  rendered  even  more  than  usually  precarious 
by  American  drinks,  the  blue-shirted  boys  wan 
dered,  open-eyed,  marvelling  much  to  find  'twixt 
twelve  and  two  the  shutters  up  in  all  the  shops 
not  conducted,  as  were  the  bars,  on  the  American 
plan,  while  from  some,  still  more  Oriental,  the  sun 
and  the  shopper  both  were  excluded  four  full 
hours,  beginning  at  eleven. 

All  over  the  massive,  antiquated  fortifications  of 
Old  Manila  into  the  tortuous  mazes  of  the  northern 


174  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

districts,  through  the  crowded  Chinese  quarter, 
foul  and  ill  savored,  the  teeming  suburbs  of  the 
native  Tagals,  humble  yet  cleanly;  along  the 
broad,  shaded  avenues,  bordered  by  stately  old 
Spanish  mansions,  many  of  them  still  occupied  by 
their  Castilian  owners,  the  Yankee  invaders  wan 
dered  at  will,  brimful  of  curiosity  and  good  nature, 
eager  to  gather  in  acquaintance,  information,  and 
bric-a-brac,  making  themselves  perfectly  at  home, 
filling  the  souls  of  the  late  lords  of  the  soil  with 
disdain,  and  those  of  the  natives  with  wonderment 
through  their  lavish,  jovial,  free  and  easy  ways. 
Within  a  month  from  the  time  Merritt's  little  divi 
sion  had  marched  into  the  city,  Manila  was  as  well 
known  to  most  of  those  far- Western  volunteers  as 
the  streets  of  their  own  home  villages,  and,  when 
once  the  paymaster  had  distributed  his  funds 
among  them  and,  at  the  rate  often  cents  off  on  every 
dollar,  they  had  swapped  their  sound  American 
coin  for  "  soft"  Mexican  or  Spanish  pesos,  the  pro 
digality  with  which  they  scattered  their  wealth 
among  their  dusky  friends  and  admirers  evoked 
the  blessings  of  the  church  (which  was  not  slow 
to  levy  on  the  beneficiaries),  the  curses  of  the  sons 
of  Spain,  who  had  generally  robbed  and  never 
given,  and,  at  first,  the  almost  superstitious  awe  of 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  175 

the  Tagals,  who,  having  never  heard  of  such  a 
thing  before,  dreaded  some  deep-laid  scheme  for 
their  despoilment.  But  this  species  of  dread 
lived  but  a  few  short  weeks,  and,  before  next  pay 
day,  was  as  far  gone  as  the  money  of  the  Amer 
icanos. 

Those  were  blithe  days  in  Manila  as  the  autumn 
came  on  and  the  insurrection  was  still  in  the  far 
future.  There  were  fine  bands  among  the  Yankee 
regiments  that  played  afternoon  and  evening  in  the 
kiosk  on  the  Luneta,  and  every  household  pos 
sessed  of  an  open  carriage,  or  the  means  of  hiring 
one,  appeared  regularly  each  day  as  the  sun  sank 
to  the  westward  sea,  and  after  making  swift  yet 
solemn  circuit  of  the  Anda  monument  at  the  Pasig 
end  of  the  Paseo  de  Santa  Lucia,  returned  to  the 
Luneta  proper,  and  wedged  in  among  the  closely 
packed  vehicles  that  covered  the  broad,  smooth 
driveways  on  both  sides  of  the  esplanade  and  for 
some  hundred  yards  each  way  north  and  south  of 
the  band-stand.  Along  the  shaded  and  gravelled 
walks  that  bordered  the  Paseo,  within  short  pistol- 
shot  of  the  grim  bastions  beyond  the  green  glacis 
and  even  greener  moat,  many  dark-haired,  dark- 
eyed  daughters  of  Spain,  leaving  their  carriages 
and,  guarded  by  faithful  duenna,  strolled  slowly 


176  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

up  and  down,  exchanging  furtive  signal  of  hand  or 
kerchief  with  some  gallant  among  the  throngs  of 
captive  soldiery  that  swarmed  towards  sunset  on  the 
parapet.  Swarthy,  black-browed  Spanish  officers 
in  cool  summer  uniform  and  in  parties  of  three  or 
four  lined  the  roadway,  or  wandered  up  and  down 
in  search  of  some  distraction  to  the  deadly  ennui 
of  their  lives  now  that  their  soldier  occupation  was 
gone,  vouchsafing  neither  glance  nor  salutation  to 
their  Yankee  conquerors,  no  matter  what  the  rank, 
until  the  wives  and  daughters  of  American  officers 
began  to  arrive  and  appear  upon  the  scene,  when 
the  disdain  of  both  sexes  speedily  gave  way  to 
obvious,  if  reluctant,  curiosity. 

South  of  the  walls  and  outworks  of  Old  Manila 
and  east  of  the  Luneta  lay  a  broad,  open  level, 
bounded  on  the  south  by  the  suburb  of  Ermita, 
and  in  the  midst  of  the  long  row  of  Spanish-built 
houses  extending  from  the  battery  of  huge  Krupps 
at  the  bay-side,  almost  over  to  the  diagonal  avenue 
of  the  Nozaleda,  stood  the  very  cosey,  finely  fur 
nished  house  which  had  been  hired  as  quarters  for 
Colonel  Brent,  high  dignitary  on  the  department 
staff. 

Its  lower  story  of  cut  stone  was  pierced  by  the 
arched  drive-way  through  which  carriages  entered 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  177 

to  the  patio  or  inner  court,  and,  as  in  the  tenets 
of  Madrid  the  Queen  of  Spain  is  possessed  of  no 
personal  means  of  locomotion,  so  possibly  to  no 
Spanish  dame  of  high  degree  may  be  attributed  the 
desire,  even  though  she  have  the  power,  to  walk. 

No  other  portal,  therefore,  either  for  entrance  or 
exit,  could  be  found  at  the  front.  Massive  doors 
of  dark,  heavy  wood  from  the  Luzon  forests, 
strapped  with  iron,  swung  on  huge  hinges  that, 
unless  well  oiled,  defied  the  efforts  of  unmuscular 
mankind.  A  narrow  panel  opening  in  one  of  these 
doors,  two  feet  above  the  ground  and  on  little 
hinges  of  its  own,  gave  means  of  passage  to  house 
hold  servants  and,  when  pressed  for  time,  to  such 
of  their  superiors  as  would  condescend  to  step 
high  and  stoop  low. 

To  the  right  and  left  of  the  main  entrance  were 
store-rooms,  servants'  rooms,  and  carriage-room, 
and  opposite  the  latter,  towards  the  rear,  the  broad 
stairway  that,  turning  upon  itself,  led  to  the  living- 
rooms  on  the  upper  floor — the  broad  salon  at  the 
head  of  the  stairs  being  utilized  as  a  dining-room 
on  state  occasions,  and  its  northward  end  as  the 
parlor.  Opening  from  the  sides  of  the  salon,  front 
and  rear,  were  four  large,  roomy,  high-ceilinged 
chambers. 

12 


178  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

Overlooking  and  partially  overhanging  the  street 
and  extending  the  length  of  the  house  was  a  wide 
enclosed  veranda,  well  supplied  with  tables,  loung- 
ing-chairs,  and  couches  of  bamboo  and  wicker,  its 
floor  covered  here  and  there  with  Indian  rugs,  its 
surrounding  waist-high  railing  fitted  with  parallel 
grooves  in  which  slid  easily  the  frames  of  the 
windows  of  translucent  shells,  set  in  little  four- 
inch  squares,  or  the  dark-green  blinds  that  ex 
cluded  the  light  and  glare  of  mid-day. 

With  both  thrown  back  there  spread  an  unob 
structed  view  of  the  parade-ground  even  to  the 
edge  of  the  distant  glacis,  and  here  it  was  the 
household  sat  to  watch  the  military  ceremonies, 
to  receive  their  guests,  and  to  read  or  doze 
throughout  the  drowsier  hours  of  the  day. 
"  Campo  de  Bagumbayan"  was  what  the  natives 
called  that  martial  flat  in  the  strange  barbaric 
tongue  that  delights  in  "  igs"  and  "  ags,"  in  "  ings" 
and  "  angs,"  even  to  repetition  and  repletion. 

And  here  one  soft,  sensuous  October  afternoon, 
with  a  light  breeze  from  the  bay  tempering  the 
heat  of  the  slanting  sunshine,  reclining  in  a  broad 
bamboo  easy-chair  sat  Maidie  Ray,  now  quite  con 
valescent,  yet  not  yet  restored  to  her  old-time 
vigorous  health. 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  179 

Her  hostess,  the  colonel's  amiable  wife,  was  busy 
on  the  back  gallery  leading  to  the  kitchen,  deep  in 
counsel  with  her  Filipino  major-domo  and  her 
Chinese  cook,  servitors  who  had  been  well  trained 
and  really  needed  no  instruction,  and  for  that 
matter  got  but  little,  for  Mrs.  Brent's  knowledge 
of  the  Spanish  tongue  was  even  less  than  her  com 
mand  of  "  Pidgin"  English.  Nevertheless,  neither 
Ignacio  nor  Sing  Suey  would  fail  to  nod  in  the  one 
case  or  smile  broadly  in  the  other  in  assent  to  her 
every  proposition, — it  being  one  of  the  articles  of 
their  domestic  faith  that  peace  and  happiness,  truth 
and  justice,  religion  and  piety,  could  best  be  pro 
moted  throughout  the  establishment  by  never 
seeming  to  differ  with  the  lady  of  the  house.  To 
all  outward  appearances,  therefore,  and  for  the 
first  few  weeks,  at  least,  housekeeping  in  the  Philip 
pines  seemed  something  almost  idyllic,  and  Mrs. 
Brent  was  in  ecstasies  over  the  remarkable  virtues 
of  Spanish-trained  servants. 

There  had  been  anxious  days  during  Maidie's 
illness.  The  Sacramento  had  been  ordered  away, 
and  the  little  patient  had  to  be  brought  ashore. 
But  the  chief  quartermaster  sent  his  especial  steam- 
launch  for  "  Billy  Ray's  daughter,"  the  chief  sur 
geon,  the  best  ambulance  and  team  to  meet  her  at 


180  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

the  landing;  a  squad  of  Sandy's  troopers  bore  her 
reclining-chair  over  the  side  into  the  launch,  out 
of  the  launch  to  the  waiting  ambulance,  and  out 
of  the  ambulance  upstairs  into  the  airy  room  set 
apart  for  her,  and,  with  Mrs.  Brent  and  Miss 
Porter,  Sandy  and  the  most  devoted  of  army 
doctors  to  bear  her  company  and  keep  the  fans 
going,  Maidie's  progress  had  been  rather  in  the 
nature  of  a  triumph. 

So  at  least  it  had  seemed  to  the  austere  vice- 
president  of  the  Patriotic  Daughters  of  America, 
who,  as  it  happened,  looked  on  in  severe  disap 
proval.  She  had  asked  for  that  very  ambulance 
that  very  day  to  enable  her  to  make  the  rounds 
of  regimental  hospitals  in  the  outlying  suburbs, 
and  had  been  politely  but  positively  refused. 

By  that  time,  it  seems,  this  most  energetic 
woman  had  succeeded  in  alienating  all  others  in 
authority  at  corps  head-quarters,  to  the  end  that 
the  commanding  general  declined  to  grant  her 
further  audience,  the  surgeon-general  had  given 
orders  that  she  be  not  admitted  to  his  inner  office, 
the  deputy  surgeon-general  had  asked  for  a  sentry 
to  keep  her  off  his  premises,  the  sentries  at  the 
First  and  Second  Reserve  Hospital  had  instructions 
to  tell  her,  also  politely  but  positively,  that  she 


A   STORY   OF    MANILA  181 

could  not  be  admitted  except  in  visiting  hours, 
when  the  surgeon,  a  steward,  or — and  here  was 
"the  most  unkindest  cut  of  all" — some  of  the 
triumphant  Red  Cross  could  receive  and  attend  to 
her,  for  at  last  the  symbol  of  Geneva  had  gained 
full  recognition.  At  last  Dr.  Wells  and  the  sister 
hood  were  on  duty,  comfortably  housed,  cordially 
welcomed,  and  presumably  happy. 

But  Miss  Perkins  was  not.  She  had  come  to 
Manila  full  of  high  purpose  as  the  self-styled, 
accredited  representative  of  any  quantity  of  good 
Americans,  actuated  by  motives,  no  doubt,  of  purest 
patriotism.  The  nation  was  full  of  it, — of  men 
who  wanted  to  be  officers,  of  women  who  wanted 
to  be  officials,  many  of  whom  succeeded  only  in 
becoming  officious.  There  were  not  staff  or  line 
positions  enough  to  provide  for  a  hundredth  part 
of  the  men,  or  societies  and  "  orders"  sufficient  to 
cater  to  the  ambitions  of  a  tenth  part  of  the 
women.  The  great  Red  Cross  gave  abundant 
employment  for  thousands  of  gentle  and  willing 
hands,  but  limited  the  number  of  directing  heads, 
and  Miss  Perkins  and  others  of  the  Jellaby  stamp 
were  born,  as  they  thought,  not  to  follow  but  to 
lead.  Balked  in  their  ambitious  designs  to  be 
come  prominent  in  that  noble  national  association, 


182  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

women  possessed  of  the  unlimited  assurance  of 
Miss  Perkins  started  what  might  be  termed  an 
anti-crusade,  with  the  result  that  in  scores  of  quiet 
country  towns,  as  well  as  in  the  cities  of  the  East 
and  Middle  West,  many  subscriptions  were  easily 
gained,  and  hundreds  of  honest,  earnest  women 
were  rewarded  with  paper  scrolls  setting  forth  that 
they  were  named  as  Sisters  of  the  American  Sol 
dier,  Patriotic  Daughters  of  America,  or  Minister 
ing  Angels  of  the  Camp  and  Cot.  Shades  of  Flor 
ence  Nightingale  and  Clara  Barton !  the  very  voice 
of  such  self-appointed  angels  as  Miss  Perkins  was 
enough  to  set  the  nerves  of  strong  men  on  edge 
and  to  drive  fever  patients  to  madness  !  Even  the 
Red  Cross  could  not  always  be  sure  of  its  selec 
tion.  It  did  prevent  the  sending  to  Manila  of 
certain  undesirable  applicants,  but  it  could  not 
prevent  the  going  of  Miss  Perkins  at  the  expense 
of  the  deluded,  on  ships  that  were  common  car 
riers,  even  though  she  were  a  common  scold. 
There  she  was,  portentous  as  the  British  Female 
portrayed  by  Thackeray.  Backed  by  apparently 
abundant  means  and  obviously  indomitable  "  gall," 
she  counted  on  carrying  all  before  her  by  sheer 
force  of  her  powers  of  self-assertion  and  the  name 
of  the  Patriotic  Daughters  of  America.  But  the 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  183 

commanding  general  was  the  most  impassive  of 
men,  gifted  with  a  keen  though  little  suspected 
sense  of  humor,  and  no  little  judgment  in  esti 
mating  motive  and  character.  He  actually  enjoyed 
the  first  call  made  by  Miss  Perkins,  suggested  her 
coming  again  on  the  morrow,  and  summoned  his 
chief  surgeon  and  his  provost  marshal,  another 
keen  humorist,  to  be  present  at  the  interview.  It 
has  been  asserted  that  this  triumvirate  went  so  far 
as  to  encourage  the  lady  to  even  wilder  flights  of 
assertion.  We  have  her  own  word  for  it  that  then 
and  there  she  was  promised  as  offices  three  big 
rooms  in  the  Palace, — the  Ayuntamiento, — six 
clerks,  and  a  private  secretary,  but  an  impartial  wit 
ness  avows  that  the  sole  basis  for  this  was  a  question 
propounded  to  the  provost  marshal  by  the  chief 
surgeon  as  to  whether  the  chief  quartermaster  or 
the  chief  engineer  should  be  called  on  to  vacate 
the  rooms  assigned  to  them  as  officers  in  order 
that  the  P.  D.  A.  might  be  properly  recognized 
and  quartered,  to  which  the  response  was  made 
with  unflinching  gravity  that  something  certainly 
should  be  vacated  "  P.  D.  Q."  if  it  took  all  his  cler 
ical  force  to  effect  it,  but  this  was  sotto  voce,  so  to 
speak,  and  presumably  unheard  by  the  general 
commanding.  It  was  gall  of  another  kind,  and 


184  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

wormwood,  after  these  first  few  flattering  recep 
tions,  to  be  greeted  thereafter  only  by  aides-de 
camp  or  a  military  secretary;  then  to  be  told  by 
the  chief  surgeon  that,  under  instructions  from 
Washington,  only  those  nurses  and  attendants 
recognized  and  employed  by  the  general  govern 
ment  could  be  permitted  to  occupy  quarters  or 
walk  the  wards  about  the  hospitals.  It  was  bitter 
to  find  her  criticisms  and  suggestions  set  at  naught 
by  "  impudent  young  quacks,"  as  she  called  the 
delighted  doctors  of  the  reserve  hospitals,  to  see 
the  sisterhood  of  the  Red  Cross  presently  clothed 
with  the  purple  of  authority  as  well  as  white  caps 
and  aprons,  while  she  and,  through  her,  the  P.  D. 
A.'s  were  denied  the  privilege  of  stirring  up  the 
patients  and  overhauling  the  storerooms.  Then 
in  her  wrath  Miss  Perkins  unbosomed  herself  to 
the  press  correspondents,  a  few  of  whom,  seeking 
sensation,  as  demanded  by  their  papers,  took  her 
seriously  and  told  tremendous  tales  of  the  brutal 
neglect  of  our  sick  and  wounded  boys  in  hospital, 
of  doctors  and  nurses  in  wild  debauch  on  the 
choice  wines  and  liquors  sent  for  the  sole  use  of 
the  sick  and  wounded  by  such  patriotic  societies 
as  the  P.  D.  A.'s,  and  hinting  at  other  and  worse 
debaucheries  (which  she  blushed  to  name),  and 


A  STORY  OF  MANILA  185 

involved  in  which  were  prominent  officers  and 
favorite  members  of  a  rival  society  "  which  shall 
be  as  nameless  as  it  is  shameless."  All  this  had 
Miss  Perkins  accomplished  within  the  first  eight 
days  of  her  sojourn,  and  by  way  of  Hong-Kong 
the  unexpurgated  edition  of  her  romance,  thrown 
out  by  the  conscienceless  censor  at  head-quarters, 
eventually  found  its  way  to  the  United  States.  It 
was  while  in  this  uncharitable  frame  of  mind  that 
Miss  Perkins  caught  sight  of  the  little  procession 
up  the  Santa  Lucia  when  Maidie  was  transferred 
from  ship  to  shore,  and  the  refusal  of  the  best 
looking  of  the  "  impudent  young  quacks"  to  per 
mit  her  to  see  his  patient  that  afternoon  augmented 
her  sense  of  indignity  and  wrong.  Miss  Ray  her 
self  went  down  in  the  black  book  of  the  P.  D.  A.'s 
forthwith. 

But  all  this  time  the  officials  remained  in  blissful 
ignorance  of  the  tremendous  nature  of  the  charges 
laid  at  their  door  by  this  much  injured  woman,  and 
Maidie  Ray,  while  duly  informed  of  the  frequent 
calls  and  kind  inquiries  of  many  an  officer,  and 
permitted  of  late  to  welcome  Sandy  for  little  talks, 
had  been  mercifully  spared  the  infliction  of  the 
personal  visitation  thrice  attempted  by  her  fellow- 
traveller  on  the  train.  That  awful  voice,  however, 


186  RAY'S  DAUGHTER 

uplifted,  as  was  the  habit  of  the  vice-president  when 
aroused,  could  not  fail  to  reach  the  sick-room,  and 
when  convalescence  came  and  Miss  Perkins  came 
not,  Maidie  made  inquiries  both  of  Dr.  Frank  and 
of  her  hostess.  Frank  showed  his  handsome  teeth 
and  smiled,  but  Mrs.  Brent  showed  fight.  "  I 
won't  have  such  a  creature  within  my  doors !"  said 
she.  "  I  don't  believe  you  were  ever  intimate  friends, 
and  that  she  nursed  and  cared  for  you  in  the  cars 
when  you  were  suffering  from  shock  and  fright 
because  of  a  fire.  That's  what  she  says  though. 
What  was  it,  Maidie  ?  Was  it  there  Mr.  Stuyve- 
sant  got  that  burn  on  his  face  ? — and  lost  his  eye 
brows  ?" 

And  then  it  transpired  that  Mr.  Stuyvesant  had 
been  a  frequent  and  assiduous  caller  for  a  whole 
fortnight,  driving  thither  almost  every  evening. 

But  Maidie  was  oddly  silent  as  to  the  episode 
of  the  fire  on  the  train.  She  laughed  a  little 
about  Miss  Perkins  and  her  pretensions,  but  to 
the  disappointment  of  her  hostess  could  not  be 
drawn  into  talk  about  that  tall,  handsome  New 
Yorker. 

And  what  seemed  strange  to  Mrs.  Brent  was  that 
now,  when  Maidie  could  sit  up  a  few  hours  each 
day  and  see  certain  among  the  officers'  wives, 


A  STORY  OF  MANILA  187 

arriving  by  almost  every  steamer  from  the  States, 
and  have  happy  chats  with  Sandy  every  time  he 
could  come  galloping  in  from  Paco,  and  was  taking 
delight  in  watching  the  parades  and  reviews  on  the 
Bagumbayan,  and  listening  to  the  evening  music 
of  the  band,  Stuyvesant  had  ceased  to  call. 

Had  Maidie  noticed  it?  Mrs.  Brent  wondered, 
as,  coming  in  from  her  conference  with  the  House 
of  Commons,  she  stood  a  moment  at  the  door-way 
gazing  at  the  girl,  whose  book  had  fallen  to  the 
floor  and  whose  dark  eyes,  under  their  veiling  lids 
were  looking  far  out  across  the  field  to  the  walls 
and  church  towers  of  Old  Manila. 

It  was  almost  sunset.  There  was  the  usual 
throng  of  carriages  along  the  Luneta  and  a  great 
regiment  of  volunteers,  formed  in  line  of  platoon 
columns,  was  drawn  up  on  the  "  Campo"  directly 
in  front  of  the  house.  Sandy  had  spent  his  allotted 
half  hour  by  his  sister's  side,  and,  remounting,  had 
cantered  out  to  see  the  parade.  Miss  Perkins  had 
declared  on  the  occasion  of  her  third  fruitless  call 
that  not  until  Miss  Ray  sent  for  her  would  she 
again  submit  herself  to  be  snubbed.  So  there 
seemed  no  immediate  danger  of  her  reappearance, 
and  yet  Mrs.  Brent  had  given  Ignacio  orders  to 
open  only  the  panel  door  when  the  gate  bell 


188  RAY'S  DAUGHTER 

clanged,  and  to  refuse  admission,  even  to  the 
drive-way,  to  a  certain  importunate  caller  besides 
Miss  Perkins. 

Three  days  previous  there  had  presented  himself 
a  young  man  in  the  white  dress  of  the  tropics  and 
a  hat  of  fine  Manila  straw,  a  young  man  who 
would  not  send  up  his  card,  but  in  very  Mexican 
Spanish  asked  for  Miss  Ray.  Ignacio  sent  a  boy 
for  Mrs.  Brent,  who  came  down  to  reconnoitre, 
and  the  youth  reiterated  his  request. 

"  An  old  friend"  was  all  he  would  say  in  response 
to  her  demand  for  his  name  and  purpose.  She 
put  him  off,  saying  Miss  Ray  was  still  too  far  from 
well  to  see  anybody,  bade  him  call  next  day  when 
Dr.  Frank  and  her  husband,  she  knew,  would  prob 
ably  be  there,  duly  notified  them,  and  Frank  met 
and  received  the  caller  when  he  came  and  sent  him 
away  in  short  order. 

"  The  man  is  a  crank,"  said  he,  "  and  I  shall 
have  him  watched."  The  colonel  asked  that  one 
or  two  of  the  soldier  police  guard  should  be  sent 
to  the  house  to  look  after  the  stranger.  A  cor 
poral  came  from  the  company  barrack  around  on 
the  Calle  Real,  and  it  was  after  nightfall  when 
next  the  "  old  friend"  rang  the  bell  and  was  per 
mitted  by  Ignacio  to  enter. 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  189 

But  the  instant  the  corporal  started  forward  to 
look  at  him  the  caller  bounded  back  into  outer 
darkness.  He  was  tall,  sinewy,  speedy,  and  had  a 
twenty-yard  start  before  the  little  guardsman,  stout 
and  burly,  "could  squeeze  into  the  street.  Then  the 
latter's  shouts  up  the  San  Luis  only  served  to, 
startle  the  sentries,  to  spur  the  runner,  and  to  ex 
cite  and  agitate  Maidie. 

Dr.  Frank  was  disgusted  when  he  tried  her 
pulse  and  temperature  half  an  hour  later  and  said 
things  to  the  corporal  not  strictly  authorized  by 
the  regulations.  The  episode  was  unfortunate,  yet 
might  soon  have  been  forgotten  but  for  one  hapless 
circumstance.  Despite  her  announcement,  some 
thing  had  overcome  Miss  Perkins's  sense  of  injury, 
for  she  had  stepped  from  a  carriage  directly  in  front 
of  the  house  at  the  moment  of  the  occurrence, 
was  a  witness  to  all  that  took  place,  and  the  first 
one  to  extract  from  the  corporal  his  version  of  the 
affair  and  his  theory  as  to  what  lay  behind  it.  In 
another  moment  she  was  driving  away  towards  the 
Nozaleda,  the  direction  taken  by  the  fugitive,  fast 
as  her  coachman  could  whip  his  ponies,  the  origi 
nal  purpose  of  her  call  abandoned. 

As  in  duty  bound,  both  Mrs.  Brent  and  Dr. 
Frank  had  told  Sandy  of  this  odd  affair.  Mrs. 


190  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

Brent  described  the  stranger  as  tall,  slender,  sallow, 
with  big  cavernous  dark  eyes  that  had  a  wild  look 
to  them,  and  a  scraggly,  fuzzy  beard  all  over  his 
face,  as  though  he  hadn't  shaved  for  long  weeks. 
His  hands — of  course,  she  had  particularly  noticed 
his  hands;  what  woman  doesn't  notice  such  things? 
— were  slim  and  white.  He  had  the  look  of  a  man 
who  had  been  long  in  hospital ;  was  probably  a 
recently  discharged  patient,  perhaps  one  of  the 
many  men  just  now  getting  their  home  orders 
from  Washington. 

"  Somebody  who  served  under  your  father,  per 
haps,"  said  Mrs.  Brent  soothingly  to  Marion,  "  and 
thought  he  ought  to  see  you." 

"  Somebody  who  had  not  been  a  soldier  at  all," 
said  she  to  Sandy.  "  He  had  neither  the  look  nor 
the  manner  of  one."  And  Sandy  marvelled  a  bit 
and  decided  to  be  on  guard. 

"  Maidie,"  he  had  said  that  afternoon,  before 
riding  away,  "  when  you  get  out  next  week  we 
must  take  up  pistol  practice  again.  You  beat  me 
at  Leavenworth,  but  you  can't  do  it  now.  Got 
your  gun — anywhere  ? — the  one  Dad  gave  you  ?" 
And  Dad  or  Daddy  in  the  Ray  household  was  the 
"lovingest"  of  titles. 

Maidie  turned  a  languid    head  on   her   pillow. 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  191 

"  In  the  upper  drawer  of  the  cabinet  in  my  room,  I 
think,"  said  she.  "  I  remember  Mrs.  Brent's  ex 
amining  it." 

Sandy  went  in  search,  and  presently  returned 
with  the  prize,  a  short,  big-barrelled,  powerful  little 
weapon  of  the  bull-dog  type,  sending  a  bullet  like 
that  of  a  Derringer,  hot  and  hard,  warranted  to 
shock  and  stop  an  ox  at  ten  yards,  but  miss  a  barn 
at  over  twenty :  a  woman's  weapon  for  defence  of 
her  life,  not  a  target  pistol,  and  Sandy  twirled  the 
shining  cylinder  approvingly.  It  was  a  gleaming 
toy,  with  its  ivory  stock  and  nickeled  steel. 

"  Every  chamber  crammed,"  said  Sandy,  "  and 
sure  to  knock  spots  out  of  anything  from  a  mad 
dog  to  an  elephant,  provided  it  hits.  Best  keep  it 
by  you  at  night,  Maidie.  These  natives  are  mar 
vellous  sneak-thieves.  They  go  all  through  these 
ramshackle  upper  stories  like  so  many  ghosts.  No 
one  can  hear  them." 

Then,  when  he  took  his  leave,  the  pistol  re 
mained  there  lying  on  the  table,  and  Frank,  coming 
in  to  see  his  most  interesting  patient  just  as  the 
band  was  trooping  back  to  its  post  on  the  right  of 
the  long  line,  picked  it  up  and  examined  it,  muzzle 
uppermost,  with  professional  approbation. 

"  Yours  I  see,  Miss  Ray ; — and  from  your  father. 


192  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

A  man  hit  by  one  of  these,"  he  continued  mus 
ingly,  and  fingering  the  fat  leaden  bullets,  "  would 
drop  in  his  tracks.  You  keep  it  by  you  ? — 
always  ?" 

"  I  ?  No  !"  laughed  Maidie.  "  I'm  eager  to  get  to 
my  work, — healing — not  giving — gunshot  wounds." 

"  You  will  have  abundant  time,  my  dear  young 
lady,"  said  the  doctor  slowly,  as  he  carefully  re 
placed  the  weapon  on  the  table  by  her  side,  "  and 
— opportunity,  if  I  read  the  signs  aright,  and  we 
must  get  you  thoroughly  well  before  you  begin. 
Ah!  What's  that?  What's  the  matter  over 
there?"  he  lazily  asked.  It  was  a  fad  of  the 
doctor's  never  to  permit  himself  to  show  the  least 
haste  or  excitement. 

A  small  opera-glass  stood  on  the  sill,  and,  calmly 
adjusting  it  as  he  peered,  Frank  had  picked  it  up 
and  levelled  it  towards  the  front  and  centre  of  the 
line  just  back  of  where  the  colonel  commanding 
sat  in  saddle.  A  lively  scuffle  and  commotion  had 
suddenly  begun  among  the  groups  of  spectators. 
Miss  Ray's  reclining-chair  was  so  placed  that  by 
merely  raising  her  head  she  could  look  out  over 
the  field.  Mrs.  Brent  ran  to  where  the  colonel's 
field-glasses  hung  in  their  leathern  case  and  joined 
the  doctor  at  the  gallery  rail. 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  193 

Three  pairs  of  eyes  were  gazing  fixedly  at  the 
point  of  disturbance,  already  the  centre  of  a  surg 
ing  crowd  of  soldiers  off  duty,  oblivious  now  to 
the  fact  that  the  band  was  playing  the  "  Star- 
Spangled  Banner,"  and  they  ought  to  be  standing 
at  attention,  hats  off,  and  facing  the  flag  as  it  came 
floating  slowly  to  earth  on  the  distant  ramparts  of 
the  old  city. 

Disdainful  of  outside  attractions,  the  adjutant 
came  stalking  out  to  the  front  as  the  strain  ceased, 
and  his  shrill  voice  was  heard  turning  over  the 
parade  to  his  commander.  Then  the  surging 
group  seemed  to  begin  to  dissolve,  many  following 
a  little  knot  of  men  carrying  on  their  shoulders  an 
apparently  inanimate  form.  They  moved  in  the 
direction  of  the  old  botanical  garden,  towards  the 
Estado  Mayor,  and  so  absorbed  were  the  three  in 
trying  to  fathom  the  cause  of  the  excitement  that 
they  were  deaf  to  Ignacio's  announcement.  A 
tall,  handsome,  most  distinguished-looking  young 
officer  stood  at  the  wide  door-way,  dressed  cap-a-pie 
in  snowy  white,  and  not  until,  after  a  moment's 
hesitation,  he  stepped  within  the  room  and  was 
almost  upon  them,  did  Miss  Ray  turn  and  see 
him. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Stuyvesant !"  was  all  she  said ;  but 
13 


194  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

the  tone  was  enough.  Mrs.  Brent  and  the  doctor 
dropped  the  glasses  and  whirled  about.  Both 
instantly  noted  the  access  of  color.  It  had  not 
all  disappeared  by  any  means,  though  the  doctor 
had,  when,  ten  minutes  later,  Colonel  Brent  came 
in. 

At  the  moment  of  his  entrance,  Stuyvesant, 
seated  close  to  Marion's  reclining-chair,  was,  with 
all  the  doctor's  caution  and  curiosity,  examining 
her  revolver.  "  Rather  bulky  for  a  pocket-pistol," 
he  remarked,  as,  muzzle  downward,  he  essayed  its 
insertion  in  the  gaping  orifice  at  the  right  hip 
of  his  Manila-made,  flapping  white  trousers.  It 
slipped  in  without  a  hitch. 

"  What  was  the  trouble  out  there  a  while  ago  ?" 
asked  the  lady  of  the  house  of  her  liege  lord. 
"  You  saw  it,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  Nothing  much.  Man  had  a  fit,  and  it  took 
four  men  to  hold  him.  Maidie,  look  here.  Cap 
tain  Kress  handed  this  to  me — said  they  picked  it 
up  just  back  of  where  the  colonel  stood  at  parade. 
Is  he  another  mash  ?" 

Marion  took  the  envelope  from  the  outstretched 
hand,  drew  forth  a  little  carte-de-visite,  on  which 
was  the  vignette  portrait  of  her  own  face,  gave  one 
quick  glance,  and  dropped  back  on  the  pillow. 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  195 

All  the  bright  color  fled.  The  picture  fell  to  the 
floor.  "  Can  you — find  Sandy?"  was  all  she  could 
say,  as,  with  imploring  eyes,  she  gazed  into  honest 
Brent's  astonished  face. 

"  I  can,  at  once,"  said  Stuyvesant,  who  had  risen 
from  his  chair  at  the  colonel's  remark.  With 
quick  bend  he  picked  up  the  little  card,  placed  it 
face  downward  on  the  table  by  her  side,  never  so 
much  as  giving  one  glance  at  the  portrait,  and 
noiselessly  left  the  room. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

LIKE  many  another  man's  that  summer  and  au 
tumn  of '98,  Mr.  Gerard  Stuyvesant's  one  overwhelm 
ing  ambition  had  been  to  get  on  to  Manila.  The 
enforced  sojourn  at  Honolulu  had  been,  therefore, 
a  bitter  trial.  He  had  reached  at  last  the  objective 
point  of  his  soldier  desires,  and  with  all  his  heart  now 
wished  himself  back  on  the  Sacramento  with  one, 
at  least, — or  was  it  at  most  ? — of  the  Sacramento's 
passengers.  The  voyage  had  done  much  to  speed 
his  recovery.  The  cordial  greeting  extended  by 
his  general  and  comrade  officers  had  gladdened 
his  heart.  Pleasant  quarters  on  the  breezy  bay 
shore,  daily  drives,  and,  presently,  gentle  exercise 
in  saddle  had  still  further  benefited  him. 

He  had  every  assurance  that  Marion  Ray's  ill 
ness  was  not  of  an  alarming  nature,  and  that,  soon 
as  the  fever  had  run  its  course,  her  convalescence 
would  be  rapid.  He  was  measurably  happy  in  the 
privilege  of  calling  every  day  to  ask  for  her,  but 
speedily  realized  the  poverty  of  Oriental  marts  in 
the  means  wherewith  to  convey  to  the  fair  patient 
some  tangible  token  of  his  constant  devotion 
196 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  197 

Where  were  the  glorious  roses,  the  fragrant,  deli 
cate  violets,  the  heaping  baskets  of  cool,  luscious, 
tempting  grapes,  pears,  and  peaches  with  which  from 
Saco  to  Seattle,  from  the  Sault  de  Sainte  Marie  to 
Southwest  Pass,  in  any  city  outside  of  Alaska  in 
the  three  million  square  miles  of  his  own  native 
land,  he  could  have  laid  siege  to  her  temporary 
retreat?  Ransack  the  city  as  he  might, — market, 
shops,  and  gardens, — hardly  a  flower  could  he  find 
worthy  her  acceptance — a  garish,  red-headed  hy 
brid  twixt  poppy  and  tulip  and  some  inodorous 
waxen  shoots  that  looked  like  decrepit  hyacinths 
and  smelled  like  nothing,  representing  the  stock 
in  trade  at  that  season  of  the  few  flower-stands 
about  Manila.  As  for  fruit,  some  stunted  sugar 
bananas  about  the  size  of  a  shoehorn  and  a  few 
diminutive  China  oranges  proved  the  extent  of  the 
weekly  exhibit  along  the  Escolta.  Once,  La  Ex- 
tremefia  displayed  a  keg  of  Malaga  grapes  duly 
powdered  with  cork,  and  several  pounds  of  these 
did  Stuyvesant  levy  upon  forthwith,  and,  after 
being  duly  immersed  in  water  and  cooled  in  the 
ice-chest,  send  them  in  dainty  basket  by  a  white- 
robed  lackey,  with  an  unimpeachable  card  bearing 
the  legend  "  Mr.  Gerard  Stuyvesant,  One-Hundred- 
and-Sixth  New  York  Infantry  Volunteers,"  and 


198  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

much  were  they  admired  on  arrival,  but  that  was 
in  the  earlier  days  of  Maidie's  convalescence,  and 
Dr.  Frank  shook  his  head.  Grape-seeds  were 
"  perilous  stuff,"  and  Mrs.  Brent  knew  they  would 
not  last  until  Maidie  was  well  enough  to  enjoy 
them,  and  so — they  did  not. 

Military  duty  for  the  staff  was  not  exacting 
about  Manila  in  the  autumn  days.  It  was  the 
intermission.  The  Spanish  war  was  over;  the 
Filipino  yet  to  come.  There  was  abundant  time 
for  "  love  and  sighing,"  and  Stuyvesant  did  both, 
for  there  was  no  question  the  poor  fellow  had 
found  his  fate,  and  yet  thought  it  trembling  in  the 
balance.  Not  one  look  or  word  of  hers  for  him 
could  Stuyvesant  recall  that  was  more  winsome 
and  kind  than  those  bestowed  on  other  men.  In 
deed,  had  he  not  seen  with  jealous  eyes  with  what 
beaming  cordiality  and  delight  she  had  met  and 
welcomed  one  or  two  young  gallants,  who,  having 
been  comrades  of  Sandy  in  "  the  Corps"  at  the 
Point,  had  found  means  to  get  out  to  the  Sacra 
mento,  obviously  to  see  her,  just  before  that  un 
timely  illness  claimed  her  for  its  own  ?  Had  he 
not  heard  his  general,  his  fellow  staff  officers, 
speaking  enthusiastically  of  her  beauty  and  fas 
cinations  and  their  destructive  effects  in  various 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  199 

quarters  ?  Had  he  not  been  compelled  in  silence 
to  listen  again  and  in  detail  to  the  story  of  old 
Sam  Martindale's  nephew  ? — Sam  Martingale,  the 
cavalry  called  him — "  Martinet  Martindale"  he  was 
dubbed  by  the  "  doughboys" — that  conscientious, 
dutiful,  and  therefore  none  too  popular  veteran, 
whose  sister's  children  much  more  than  supplied 
the  lack  of  his  own. 

Farquhar  of  the  cavalry,  scion  of  a  Philadelphia 
family  well  known  to  the  Stuyvesants  of  Gotham 
and  "  trotting  in  the  same  class,"  had  come  over 
from  department  head-quarters,  where  he  had  a 
billet  as  engineer  officer,  to  call  on  Stuyvesant  and 
to  cheer  him  up  and  contribute  to  his  convales 
cence,  and  did  so  after  the  manner  of  men,  by 
talking  on  all  manner  of  topics  for  nearly  an  hour 
and  winding  up  by  a  dissertation  on  Billy  Ray's 
pretty  daughter  and  "  Wally"  Foster's  infatuation. 
Farquhar  said  it  was  the  general  belief  that  Maidie 
liked  Wally  mighty  well  and  would  marry  him 
were  he  only  in  the  army.  And  Stuyvesant  won 
dered  how  it  was,  in  all  the  years  he  had  known 
Farquhar  and  envied  him  his  being  a  West  Pointer 
and  in  the  cavalry,  he  had  never  really  discovered 
what  a  bore,  what  a  wearisome  ass,  Farquhar 
could  be. 


200  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

Then  just  as  Miss  Ray  was  reported  sitting  up 
and  soon  to  be  able  to  "  see  her  friends," — with 
what  smiling  significance  did  Mrs.  Brent  so  assure 
him ! — what  should  Stuyvesant's  general  do  but 
select  Stuyvesant  himself  to  go  on  a  voyage  of 
discovery  to  Iloilo  and  beyond.  The  command 
ing  general  wanted  a  competent  officer  who  spoke 
Spanish  to  make  a  certain  line  of  investigation. 
He  consulted  Vinton.  Vinton  thought  another 
voyage  the  very  thing  for  Stuyvesant,  and  so  sug 
gested  his  name. 

It  sent  the  luckless  Gothamite  away  just  at  the 
time  of  all  others  he  most  wished  to  remain. 
When  he  returned,  within  a  dozen  days,  the  first 
thing  was  to  submit  his  written  report,  already 
prepared  aboard  ship.  The  next  was  to  report 
himself  in  person  at  Colonel  Brent's,  to  be  asked 
into  the  presence  of  the  girl  he  loved  and  longed 
to  see,  and,  as  has  been  told,  ushered  out  almost 
immediately,  self-detailed,  in  search  of  Sandy. 

He  had  found  the  lad  easily  enough,  but  not  so 
the  man  with  the  fit,  whom,  for  reasons  of  his  own 
and  from  what  he  had  seen  and  heard,  Stuyvesant 
was  most  anxious  to  overtake.  His  carriage 
whirled  him  rapidly  past  the  parade-ground  and 
over  to  the  First  Reserve  Hospital,  whither  he 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  201 

thought  the  victim  had  been  borne,  but  no  civilian, 
with  or  without  fits,  had  recently  been  admitted. 

Inquiry  among  convalescent  patients  and  sol 
diers  along  the  road  without  resulted  at  last  in  his 
finding  one  of  the  party  that  carried  the  stricken 
man  from  the  field.  He  had  come  to,  said  the 
volunteer,  before  they  had  gone  quarter  of  a  mile, 
had  soused  his  head  in  water  at  a  hydrant,  rested 
a  minute,  offered  them  a  quarter  for  their  trouble, 
buttoned  up  the  light  coat  that  had  been  torn  open 
in  his  struggle,  and  nervously  but  positively  de 
clared  himself  all  right  and  vastly  obliged,  had 
then  hailed  a  passing  carromatta,  and  been 
whisked  away  across  the  moat  and  drawbridge 
into  the  old  city.  There  all  trace  was  lost  of  him. 

Baffled  and  troubled,  Stuyvesant  ordered  his 
coachman  to  take  him  to  the  Luneta.  The  crowd 
had  disappeared.  The  carriages  were  nearly  all 
departed.  The  lights  were  twinkling  here  and 
there  all  over  the  placid  bay.  It  was  still  nearly 
an  hour  to  dinner-time  at  the  general's  mess,  and 
he  wished  to  be  alone  to  think  over  matters,  to 
hear  the  soothing  plash  and  murmur  of  the  little 
waves,  and  Stuyvesant  vowed  in  his  wrath  and 
vexation  that  Satan  himself  must  be  managing  his 
affairs,  for,  over  and  above  the  longed-for  melody 


202  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

of  the  rhythmic  waters,  he  was  hailed  by  the  buzz- 
saw  stridencies  of  Miss  Perkins,  whose  first  words 
gave  the  lie  to  themselves. 

"  I'm  all  out  of  breath,  and  so  het  up  runnin' 
after  you  I  can't  talk,  but  I  was  just  bound  to  see 
you,  an'  I've  been  to  your  house  so  often  the  sol 
diers  laugh  at  me.  Those  young  men  haven't  any 
sense  of  decency  or  respect,  but  I'll  teach  'em,  and 
you  see  they'll  sing  another  song.  Where  can  we 
sit  down  ?"  continued  the  lady,  her  words  chasing 
each  other's  heels  in  her  breathless  haste.  "  These 
lazy,  worthless  Spanish  officers  take  every  seat 
along  here.  Why,  here !  your  carriage  will  do, 
an'  I've  got  a  thousand  things  to  say  !"  ("  Heaven 
be  merciful,"  groaned  Stuyvesant  to  himself.)  "  I 
saw  you  driving,  and  I  told  my  cabman  to  catch 
you  if  he  had  to  flog  the  hide  ofT  his  horse.  Come, 
aren't  you — don't  you  want  to  sit  down  ?  I  do, 
anyhow !  There's  no  comfort  in  my  cab.  Here, 
I'll  dismiss  it  now.  You  can  just  drop  me  on  the 
way  home,  you  know.  I'm  living  down  the  Calle 
Real  a  few  blocks  this  side  of  you.  All  the  sol 
diers  know  me,  and  if  they  had  their  say  it  wouldn't 
be  the  stuck-up  Red  Cross  that's  flirting  with 
doctors  and  living  high  on  the  dainties  our  folks 
sent  over.  The  boys  are  all  right.  It's  your 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  203 

generals  that  have  ignored  the  P.  D.  A.'s,  and  I'll 
show  'em  presently  what  a  miss  they've  made. 
Wait  till  the  papers  get  the  letters  I  have  written. 
But,  say — ("And  this  is  the  woman  I  thought  might 
be  literary !"  moaned  Stuyvesant  as  he  meekly 
followed  to  the  little  open  carriage  and,  with  a 
shiver,  assisted  his  angular  visitor  to  a  seat.) 

"  A  Key !"  she  shouted,  "  A  Key,  Cochero  !  No 
quiere  mas  hoy.  Mariana !  Ocho !  Sabe,  Coch 
ero  ?  Ocho !  Now  don'tchewbe — What's  late  in 
their  lingo,  anyhow  ?  Tisn't  tardy,  I  know ;  that's 
afternoon.  Tardeeo  ?  Thank  you.  Now — well, 
just  sit  down,  first,  lieutenant.  You  see  we  know 
how  to  address  officers  by  their  titles,  if  the  Red 
Cross  don't.  I'd  teach  'em  to  Mister  me  if  I  was 
an  officer.  Now,  what  I  want  to  see  you  about 
first  is  this.  Your  general  has  put  me  off  one  way 
or  another  every  time  I've  called  this  last  two 
weeks.  I've  always  treated  him  politely,  but  for 
some  reason  he'll  never  see  me  now,  and  yet  they 
almost  ran  after  me  at  first.  Now,  you  can  fix  it 
easy  enough,  and  you  do  it  and  you  won't  regret 
it.  I  only  want  him  to  listen  to  me  three  minutes, 
and  that's  little  enough  for  anybody  to  ask.  You 
do  it,  and  I  can  do  a  good  deal  more  for  you  than 
you  think  for,  an'  I  will  do  it,  too,  if  certain  people 


204  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

don't  treat  me  better.  It's  something  you'll  thank 
me  for  mightily  later  on.  if  you  don't  now.  I've  had 
my  eyes  open,  lieutenant,  an'  I  see  things  an'  I  hear 
things  an'  I  know  things  you  mighty  little  suspect." 

"  Pardon  me,  Miss  Perkins,"  interposed  Stuyve- 
sant  at  this  juncture,  his  nerves  fairly  twitching 
under  the  strain.  "  Let  us  get  at  the  matters  on 
which  you  wish  to  speak  to  me.  Malate,  Coch- 
ero !"  he  called  to  the  pygmy  Filipino  on  the  box. 
"  I  am  greatly  pressed  for  time,"  he  added,  as  the 
carriage  whirled  away,  the  hoofs  of  the  pony  team 
flying  like  shuttles  the  instant  the  little  scamps 
were  headed  homeward. 

"  Well,  what  I  want  mostly  is  to  see  the  general. 
He's  got  influence  with  General  Drayton  and  I 
know  it,  and  these  Red  Cross  people  have  poisoned 
his  ears.  Everybody's  ears  seem  to  be  just  now 
against  me  and  I  can  get  no  hearing  whatever. 
Everything  was  all  right  at  first ;  everything  was 
promised  me,  and  then,  first  one  and  then  another, 
they  all  backed  out,  and  I  want  to  know  why — I'm 
bound  to  know  why,  and  they'd  better  come  to  me 
and  make  their  peace  now  than  wait  until  the 
papers  and  the  P.  D.  A.'s  get  after  'em,  as  they 
will, — you  hear  my  words  now, — they  will  do  just 
as  soon  as  my  letters  reach  the  States.  You're  all 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  205 

right  enough.  I've  told  them  how  you  helped 
with  those  poor  boys  of  mine  aboard  the  train. 
Bad  way  they'd  been  in  if  we  hadn't  been  there, 
you  and  I.  Why,  I  just  canvassed  that  train  till  I 
got  clothes  and  shoes  for  every  one  of  those  poor 
burned-out  fellows,  but  there  wouldn't  anybody 
else  have  done  it.  And  nursing? — you  ought  to 
have  seen  those  boys  come  to  thank  me  the  day  I 
went  out  to  the  Presidio,  an'  most  cried — some  of 
them  did ; — said  their  own  mothers  couldn't  have 
done  more,  and  they'd  do  anything  for  me  now. 
But  when  I  went  out  to  their  camp  at  Paco  their 
major  just  as  much  as  ordered  me  away,  and  that 
little  whipper-snapper,  Lieutenant  Ray,  that  I 

could  take  on   my   knee    and    spank He — 

Lieutenant  Ray — a  friend  of  yours  ?  Well,  you 
may  think  he  is,  or  you  may  be  a  friend  of  his,  but 
/  can  tell  you  right  here  and  now  he's  no  friend, 
and  you'll  see  he  isn't.  What's  more,  I  hate  to  see 
an  honest,  high-toned  young  gentleman  just  throw 
ing  himself  away  on  people  that  can't  appreciate 

him.     I  could  tell  you " 

"  Stop,  driver !"  shouted  Stuyvesant,  unable 
longer  to  control  himself.  "  Miss  Perkins,"  he 
added,  as  the  little  coachman  manfully  struggled 
to  bring  his  rushing  team  to  a  halt  at  the  curb, 


206  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

"  I  have  a  call  to  make  and  am  late.  Tell  my 
coachman  where  to  take  you  and  send  him  back 
to  this  corner.  Good-night,  madam,"  and,  gritting 
his  teeth,  out  he  sprang  to  the  sidewalk. 

It  happened  to  be  directly  in  front  of  one  of 
those  native  resorts  where,  day  and  night,  by 
dozens  the  swarthy  little  brown  men  gather  about 
a  billiard-table  with  its  centre  ornament  of  box 
wood  pins,  betting  on  a  game  resembling  the 
Yankee  "pin  pool"  in  everything  but  the  possi 
bility  of  fair  play.  Hovering  about  the  entrance 
or  on  the  outskirts  of  the  swarm  of  men  and  boys, 
a  dozen  native  women,  some  with  babies  in  their 
arms  and  nearly  all  with  cigars  between  their  teeth, 
stood  watching  the  play  with  absorbing  interest,  and 
a  score  of  dusky,  pot-bellied  children  from  two  to 
twelve  years  of  age  sprawled  about  the  premises, 
as  much  at  home  as  the  keeper  of  the  place. 

The  lamps  had  been  lighted  but  a  few  minutes 
and  the  game  was  in  full  blast.  Some  stalwart 
soldiers,  regulars  from  the  Cuartel  de  Malate  from 
down  the  street  or  the  nipa  barracks  of  the  Da- 
kotas  and  Idahos,  were  curiously  studying  the 
scene,  making  jovial  and  unstinted  comment  after 
their  fearless  democratic  fashion,  but  sagely  ab 
staining  from  trying  their  luck  and  not  so  sagely 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  207 

sampling  the  sizzling  soda  drinks  held  forth  to 
them  by  tempting  hands.  Liquor  the  vendors 
dare  not  proffer, — the  provost  marshal's  people  had 
forbidden  that, — and  only  at  the  licensed  bars  in 
town  or  by  bribery  and  stealth  in  the  outlying 
suburbs  could  the  natives  dispose  of  the  villanous 
"bino"  with  which  at  times  the  unwary  and  un 
accustomed  American  was  overcome. 

Three  or  four  men  in  civilian  dress,  that  some 
how  smacked  of  the  sea,  as  did  their  muttered, 
low-toned  talk,  huddled  together  at  the  corner  post, 
furtively  eying  the  laughing  soldiers  and  occasion 
ally  peering  up  and  down  the  darkened  street.  It 
was  not  the  place  Stuyvesant  would  have  chosen 
to  leave  his  carriage,  but  it  was  a  case  of  any  port 
in  a  storm, — anything  to  escape  that  awful  woman. 
With  one  quick  spring  he  was  out  of  the  vehicle 
and  into  the  midst  of  the  group  on  the  narrow 
sidewalk  before  he  noticed  them  at  all,  but  not 
before  they  saw  him.  Even  as  Miss  Perkins  threw 
forward  a  would-be  grasping  and  detaining  hand 
and  called  him  by  name,  one  of  the  group  in  civilian 
dress  gave  sudden,  instant  start,  sprang  round  the 
corner,  but,  tripping  on  some  obstacle,  sprawled 
full  length  on  the  hard  stone  pavement.  Despite 
the  violence  of  the  fall,  which  wrung  from  him  a 


208  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

fierce  curse,  the  man  was  up  in  a  second,  away,  and 
out  of  sight  in  a  twinkling. 

"  Go  on  !"  shouted  Stuyvesant  impatiently,  im 
periously,  to  his  coachman,  as,  never  caring  what 
street  he  took,  he  too  darted  around  the  same 
corner,  and  his  tall  white  form  vanished  on  the 
track  of  the  civilian. 

But  the  sound  of  the  heavy  fall,  the  muttered 
curse,  and  the  sudden  question  in  the  nearest 
group,  "  What's  wrong  with  Sackett  ?"  had  reached 
Miss  Perkins's  ears,  for  while  once  more  the  little 
team  was  speeding  swiftly  away,  the  strident  voice 
of  the  lone  passenger  was  uplifted  in  excited  hail 
to  the  coachman  to  stop.  And  here  the  Filipino 
demonstrated  to  the  uttermost  that  the  amenities 
of  civilization  were  yet  undreamed  of  in  his  dark 
ened  intellect — as  between  the  orders  of  the  man 
and  the  demands  of  the  woman  he  obeyed  the 
former.  Deaf,  even  to  that  awful  voice,  he  drove 
furiously  on  until  brought  up  standing  by  the 
bayonets  of  the  patrol  in  front  of  the  English 
Club,  and  in  a  fury  of  denunciation  and  quiver 
of  mingled  wrath  and  excitement,  Miss  Perkins 
tumbled  out  into  the  arms  of  an  amazed  and  dis 
gusted  sergeant,  and  demanded  that  he  come  at 
once  to  arrest  a  vile  thief  and  deserter. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

THAT  night  the  sentries  all  over  the  suburbs 
of  Ermita  and  Malate  were  peering  into  every  dark 
alleyway  and  closely  scrutinizing  every  human 
being  nearing  their  posts.  Few  and  far  between 
were  these,  for  the  natives  were  encouraged  to 
remain  indoors  after  nine  o'clock,  and  the  soldiers 
forbidden  to  be  out.  The  streets  were  deserted 
save  by  occasional  carriage  or  carromatta  bearing 
army  or  navy  officers,  or  what  were  termed  the 
foreign  residents — English  or  German  as  a  rule — 
from  club  or  calls  to  their  quarters. 

"  Lights  out"  sounded  early  at  the  barracks  of 
the  soldiery,  for  they  were  up  with  the  dawn  for 
breakfast  that  they  might  be  through  with  their 
hardest  drills  before  the  heat  of  the  day.  The 
"  pool  rooms,"  as  the  big  Americanos  called  these 
"wide  open,"  single-tabled  billiard  saloons  that 
flourished  in  almost  every  block,  were  required  to 
put  up  their  shutters  at  nine  o'clock,  and  every 
discoverable  establishment  in  which  gambling  had 
prevailed  in  other  form  had  long  since  been  closed 
by  a  stony-hearted  chief  of  police,  whose  star  was 

14  209 


210  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

worn  on  each  shoulder  rather  than  the  left  breast, 
and   who,  to   the   incredulous  amaze  of  Spaniard 
and  Filipino  alike,  listened  unmoved  to  the  pleas 
of  numerous    prominent   professors   of    the  gam 
bling  industry,  even  when  backed  by  proffers  of  a 
thousand  a  week   in  gold.     That  the  " partida  de 
billar"   had  not   also  been  suppressed  was  due  to 
the   fact  that,   like   Old  Sledge    in    the    Kentucky 
Court,  its   exponents   established   it   to    be,  not   a 
game   of  chance,   but    skill,   and    such,   indeed,   it 
proved  to  every  Yankee  who  put  up  his  money 
against  the  bank.     With  an  apparently  congenital 
gift  of   sleight    of   hand,   developed    by  years  of 
practice  at  pitch  penny  from  toddling   babyhood 
to  cock-fighting  adolescence,  the  native  could  so 
manipulate  the  tools  of  his  game  that  no  outsider 
had  the  faintest  "  show  for  his  money,"  while,  as 
against  each   other,  as  when   Greek   met   Greek,  it 
became  a  battle  of  the  giants,  a   trial   of   almost 
superhuman   skill.     It   was   the  one   game   left  to 
adult  Tagalhood   in  which    he  might   indulge  his 
all-absorbing  and   unconquerable  passion  to   play 
for  money.     All  over  town  and  suburbs  wandered 
countless  natives  with  wondering  game-cocks  under 
their  arms,  suffering  for  a  chance  to  spur  if  not  to 
"scrap,"    for    even    the    national    sport    had    been 


A    STORY   OF    MANILA  211 

stopped.  Never  in  all  the  services  in  all  the 
churches  of  Luzon  had  such  virtue  been  preached 
as  that  practised  by  these  heartless,  soulless  in 
vaders  from  across  the  wide  Pacific — men  who 
stifled  gambling  and  scorned  all  bribes.  "  Your 
chief  of  police  is  no  gentleman,"  declared  certain 
prominent  merchants,  arrested  for  smuggling 
opium,  and  naturally  aggrieved  and  indignant 
at  such  unheard-of  treatment.  "  He  did  not  tell 
us  how  much  he  wanted !  He  did  not  even  ask 
us  to  pay  !"  Retained  in  responsible  positions 
in  the  office  of  the  collector  of  customs,  two  Span 
ish  officers  of  rank  were  presently  found  to  have 
embezzled  some  twelve  thousand  dollars  in  some 
six  weeks  of  opportunity.  "  But  this  is  outrage ! 
This  is  scandalous !"  quoth  they,  in  righteous 
wrath  on  being  bidden  to  disgorge  and  ordered 
before  a  court-martial.  "  We  have  nothing  but 
the  customary  perquisite!  It  is  you  who  would 
rob  us !"  From  highest  to  lowest,  in  church,  in 
state,  in  school, — in  every  place, — there  seemed  no 
creed  that  barred  the  acquisition  of  money  by  any 
means  short  of  actual  robbery  of  the  person.  As 
for  thieving  from  the  premises,  the  Filipino  stood 
unequalled  —  the  champion  sneak-thief  of  the 
universe. 


212  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

And  the  sentries  this  night,  softly  lighted  by  a 
waning  old  moon,  were  on  the  lookout  everywhere 
among  the  suburbs  for  two  malefactors  distinctly 
differing  in  type,  yet  equally  in  demand.  One, 
said  the  descriptions,  compiled  from  the  original 
information  of  Zenobia  Perkins,  Spinster;  residence 
259  Calle  Real,  Ermita;  occupation,  Vice-Presi- 
dent  and  Accredited  Representative  for  the  Phil 
ippine  Islands  of  the  Patriotic  Daughters  of  Amer 
ica,  and  the  additional  particulars  later  obtained 
from  Lieutenant  Gerard  Stuyvesant,  aide-de-camp 
to  General  Vinton,  595  Calle  Real,  Malate — one, 
said  the  descriptions,  was  a  burly,  thick-set,  some 
what  slouching  American,  in  clothing  of  the  sailor 
slop-shop  variety,  a  man  of  five  feet  six  and  maybe 
forty  years,  though  he  might  be  much  younger ;  a 
coarse- featured,  heavy-bearded  man,  with  gray  eyes, 
generally  bleary,  and  one  front  tooth  gone,  leaving 
a  gap  in  the  upper  jaw  next  the  canine,  which  was 
fang-like,  yellow,  and  prominent;  a  man  with 
harsh  voice  and  surly  ways;  a  man  known  as 
Sackett  among  seamen  and  certain  civilians  who 
probably  had  made  their  way  to  Manila  in  the 
hope  of  picking  up  an  easy  living ;  a  man  wanted 
as  Murray  among  soldiers  for  a  deserter,  jail-bird, 
and  thief. 


A    STORY   OF   MANILA  213 

The  other  malefactor  was  less  minutely  de 
scribed.  A  native  five  feet  eight,  perhaps.  Very 
tall  for  a  Tagal,  slender,  sinewy,  and  with  a  tuft  of 
wiry  hair  and  sixteen  inches  of  shirt  missing. 
"  For  further  particulars  and  the  missing  sixteen 
inches,  as  well  as  the  hair,  inquire  at  Colonel 
Brent's,  Number  199  Calle  San  Luis,  Ermita." 

It  seems  that  soon  after  dark  that  eventful  even 
ing  Mrs.  Brent  and  Miss  Porter  had  seen  Maidie 
comfortably  bestowed  in  the  big,  broad,  cane-bot 
tomed  bed  in  her  airy  room,  and  had  left  her  to  all 
appearances  sleeping  placidly  towards  eight  o'clock, 
and  then  gone  out  to  dinner.  Whatever  the  cause 
of  her  agitation  on  receiving  at  Brent's  hands  the 
little  card  photograph  of  herself,  it  had  subsided 
after  a  brief,  low-toned  conference  with  Sandy, 
who  quickly  came  and  speedily  hastened  away, 
and  a  later  visit  from  Dr.  Frank,  whose  placid, 
imperturbable,  restful  ways  were  in  themselves  well- 
nigh  as  soothing  as  the  orange-flower  water  pre 
scribed  for  her.  Even  the  little  night-light,  float 
ing  in  its  glass,  had  been  extinguished  when  the 
ladies  left  her. 

The  room  assigned  to  Marion  was  at  the  north 
west  corner  of  the  house.  Its  two  front  windows 
opened  on  the  wide  gallery,  that  in  turn  opened 


214  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

out  on  the  Bagumbayan  parade.  Its  west  windows, 
also  two  in  number,  were  heavily  framed.  There 
were  sliding  blinds  to  oppose  to  the  westering  sun, 
translucent  shells  in  place  of  brittle  glass  to 
temper,  yet  admit,  the  daylight,  and  hanging  cur 
tains  that  slid  easily  on  their  supporting  rods  and 
rendered  the  room  dark  as  could  be  desired  for  the 
siesta  hours  of  the  tropic  day. 

The  dinner-table,  brightly  lighted  by  lamps  hung 
from  hooks  securely  driven  in  the  upper  beams 
(lath  and  plaster  are  unknown  in  this  seismic 
land),  was  set  on  the  rear  gallery  overlooking  the 
patio,  and  here,  soon  after  eight,  Brent,  his  little 
household,  the  doctor,  and  two  more  guests  were 
cosily  chatting  and  dining,  while  noiseless  native 
servants  hovered  about  and  Maidie  Ray  presum 
ably  slept. 

But  Maidie  was  not  sleeping.  Full  of  a  new 
anxiety,  if  not  of  dread,  and  needing  to  think 
calmly  and  clearly,  she  had  turned  away  from  her 
almost  too  assiduous  attendants  and  closed  her 
eyes  upon  the  world  about  her.  A  perplexity,  a 
problem  such  as  never  occurred  to  her  as  a  possi 
bility,  one  that  sorely  worried  Sandy,  as  she  could 
plainly  see,  had  suddenly  been  thrust  upon  her. 
Hitherto  she  had  ever  had  a  most  devoted  mother 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  215 

as  her  counsellor  and  friend,  but  now  a  time  had 
come  when  she  must  think  and  act  for  herself. 

The  little  card  photograph  picked  up  by  the 
men  on  the  scene  of  the  scuffle  at  the  edge  of  the 
Bagumbayan  had  told  its  story  to  her  at  least  and 
to  Sandy.  It  could  only  mean  that  Foster,  he  who 
spent  whole  days  and  weeks  at  their  New  Mex 
ican  station  to  the  neglect  of  his  cattle-ranch,  he 
who  had  'listed  in  the  cavalry  and  disappeared — 
deserted,  maybe — at  Carquinez,  had  eluded  search, 
pursuit,  inquiry  of  every  kind,  and,  all  ignorant, 
probably,  of  the  commission  obtained  for  him,  had, 
still  secretly,  as  though  realizing  his  danger,  fol 
lowed  her  to  Manila. 

This  then  must  have  been  the  tall  stranger  who 
called  himself  an  old  friend  and  would  give  no 
name,  for  it  was  to  Foster,  in  answer  to  his  most 
urgent  plea, — perhaps  touched  by  his  devoted  love 
for  her  lovely  daughter, — that  Mrs.  Ray  had  given 
that  little  vignette  photograph  long  months  before. 
There,  on  the  back,  was  the  date  in  her  mother's 
hand,  "Fort  Averill,  New  Mexico,  February  15, 
1898."  Well  did  Marion  remember  how  he  had 
begged  her  to  write  her  name  beneath  the  picture, 
and  how,  for  some  reason  she  herself  could  not 
describe,  she  had  shrunk  from  so  doing.  There 


2i6  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

had  been  probably  half  a  dozen  pictures  of  Foster 
about  their  quarters  at  Averill, — photographs  in 
evening  dress,  in  ranch  rig,  in  winter  garb,  in  tennis 
costume, — but  only  one  had  he  of  Maidie,  and  that 
not  of  her  giving. 

Now,  what  could  his  coming  mean  ?  What 
madness  prompted  this  stealth  and  secrecy  ?  If 
innocent  of  wilful  desertion,  his  proper  course  was 
to  have  reported  without  delay  to  the  military 
authorities  at  San  Francisco  and  told  the  cause 
of  his  disappearance  or  detention.  But  he  had 
evidently  done  nothing  of  the  kind.  They  would 
surely  have  heard  of  it,  and  now  he  was  here,  still 
virtually  in  hiding  and  possibly  in  disguise,  and 
one  unguarded  word  of  hers  might  land  him  a 
prisoner,  a  war-time  deserter,  within  the  walls  of 
the  gloomy  carcel  in  Old  Manila. 

Sandy  she  had  to  tell,  and  he  was  overwhelmed 
with  dismay,  had  galloped  to  Paco  to  see  his  col 
onel  and  get  leave  for  "  urgent  personal  and  family 
reasons,"  as  he  was  to  say,  to  spend  forty-eight 
hours  in  and  about  Manila.  If  a  possible  thing, 
Sandy  was  to  trail  and  find  poor  Foster,  induce 
him  to  surrender  himself  at  once,  to  plead  illness, 
inexperience, — anything, — and  throw  himself  on  the 
mercy  of  the  authorities.  Sandy  would  be  back 


A  STORY   OF  MANILA  217 

by  nine  unless  something  utterly  unforeseen  de 
tained  him  at  East  Paco.  Meantime  what  else 
could  she  do  ? — what  could  she  plan  to  rescue  that 
reckless,  luckless,  hare-brained,  handsome  fellow 
from  the  plight  into  which  his  misguided,  wasted 
passion  had  plunged  him  ? 

From  the  veranda  the  clink  of  glass  and  china, 
the  low  hum  of  merry  chat,  the  sound  of  half- 
smothered  laughter,  fell  upon  the  ear  and  vexed 
her  with  its  careless  jollity.  Impatiently  she 
threw  herself  upon  the  other — the  left — side,  and 
then — sat  bolt  upright  in  bed. 

Not  a  breath  of  air  was  stirring.  The  night  was 
so  still  she  could  hear  the  soft  tinkle  of  the  ships' 
bells  off  the  Luneta,  —  could  almost  hear  the 
soothing  plash  of  the  wavelets  on  the  beach. 
There  was  nothing  whatever  to  cause  that  huge 
mahogany  door  to  swing  upon  its  well-oiled  hinges. 
She  heard  them  close  it  when  they  went  out ;  she 
saw  that  it  was  closed  when  they  were  gone,  yet, 
as  she  turned  on  her  pillow  and  towards  the  faint 
light  through  the  northwest  windows,  that  door 
was  slowly,  stealthily  turning,  until  at  last,  wide 
open,  it  interposed  between  her  and  the  outward 
light  at  the  front. 

Many  an  evening  lately  she  had  lain  with  hands 


218  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

clasped  under  the  back  of  her  bonny  head  looking 
dreamily  out  through  that  big  open  window,  across 
the  gallery  beyond  and  the  open  casements  in 
front,  watching  the  twinkle  of  the  electric  lights 
above  the  distant  ramparts  of  the  old  city  and  the 
nearer  gleam  of  the  brilliant  globes  that  hung  aloft 
along  the  west  edge  of  the  Bagumbayan. 

Now  one-half  of  that  vista  was  shut  off  by  the 
massive  door,  the  other  was  unobscured,  but  even 
as  with  beating  heart,  still  as  a  trembling  mouse, 
she  sat  and  gazed,  something  glided  slowly,  stealth 
ily,  noiselessly  between  her  and  those  betraying 
lights,  something  dark,  dim,  and  human,  for  the 
shape  was  that  of  a  man,  a  native,  as  she  knew  by 
the  stiffly  brushed-up  hair  above  the  forehead,  the 
loosely  falling  shirt — a  native  taller  than  any  of 
their  household  servants — a  native  whose  move 
ments  were  so  utterly  without  sound  that  Maidie 
realized  on  the  instant  that  here  was  one  of  Ma 
nila's  famous  veranda-climbing  house-thieves,  and 
her  first  thought  was  for  her  revolver.  She  had 
left  it,  totally  forgotten,  on  the  little  table  on  the 
outer  gallery. 

Even  though  still  weak  from  her  long  and  serious 
illness,  the  brave,  army-bred  girl  was  conscious 
of  no  sentiment  of  fear.  To  cry  out  was  sure  to 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  219 

bring  about  the  instant  escape  of  the  intruder, 
whereas  to  capture  him  and  prevent  his  getting 
away  with  such  valuables  as  he  had  probably 
already  laid  hands  on  became  instantly  her  whole 
ambition.  The  side  windows  were  closed  by  the 
sliding  blinds.  Even  if  he  leaped  from  them  it 
would  be  into  a  narrow  court  shut  in  by  a  ten-foot, 
spike-topped  stone  wall.  He  had  chosen  the 
veranda  climber's  favorite  hour,  that  which  found 
the  family  at  dinner  on  the  back  gallery,  and  the 
quiet  streets  well-nigh  deserted  save  by  his  own 
skilled  and  trusted  "  pals,"  from  whose  shoulders 
he  had  easily  swung  himself  to  the  overhanging 
structure  at  the  front.  He  would  doubtless  retire 
that  way  the  moment  he  had  stowed  beneath  his 
loose,  flapping  ropas  such  items  as  he  deemed  of 
marketable  value. 

He  was  even  now  stealthily  moving  across  the 
floor  to  where  her  dressing-table  stood  between  the 
westward  windows.  The  man  must  have  the  eyes 
of  a  cat  to  see  in  the  dark,  or  else  personal  and 
previous  knowledge  of  the  premises.  If  she  could 
only  slip  as  noiselessly  out  by  the  foot  of  the  bed, 
interpose  between  him  and  the  door  and  that  one 
wide-open  window,  then  scream  for  help  and  grab 
him  as  he  sprang,  she  might  hope  to  hold  him  a 


220  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

second  or  two,  and  then  Brent  and  Dr.  Frank 
would  be  upon  him. 

All  her  trembling  was  from  excitement:  she 
knew  no  thought  of  fear.  But  strong  and  steady 
hands  were  needed,  not  the  fever-shattered  members 
only  just  beginning  to  regain  their  normal  tone. 
She  slid  from  underneath  the  soft,  light  coverlet 
without  a  sound.  The  sturdy  yet  elastic  bottom 
of  platted  cane  never  creaked  or  complained.  She 
softly  pushed  outward  the  fine  mosquito  netting, 
gathered  her  dainty  night-robe  closely  about  her 
slender  form,  and  the  next  minute  her  little  bare 
feet  were  on  the  polished,  hard-wood  floor,  the 
massive  door  barely  five  short  steps  away.  She 
cautiously  lifted  the  netting  till  it  cleared  her  head, 
and  then,  crouching  low,  moved  warily  towards 
the  dim,  vertical  slit  that  told  of  subdued  light  in 
the  salon. 

There  was  no  creak  to  those  thick,  black-wood 
planks  with  which  Manila  mansions  are  floored. 
Her  outstretched  hand  had  almost  reached  the 
knob  when  her  knee  collided  with  a  light  bamboo 
bedroom  chair.  There  was  instant  bamboo  rasp 
and  protest,  followed  by  instant  vigorous  spring 
across  the  room,  and  instant  piercing  scream  from 
Maidie's  lips. 


A   STORY   OF    MANILA  221 

Something  dusky  white  shot  before  her  eyes, 
something  inky  black  and  dusky  white  was 
snatched  at  and  seized  by  those  nervous,  slender, 
but  determined  little  hands.  Something  dropped 
with  clash  and  clatter  on  the  resounding  floor. 
Something  ripped  and  tore  as  an  agile,  slippery, 
squirming  form  bounded  from  her  grasp  over  the 
casement  to  the  veranda,  over  the  sill  into  the  street, 
and  when  Brent  and  the  doctor  and  the  women 
folk  came  rushing  in  and  lamps  were  brought  and 
Brent  went  shouting  to  sentries  up  and  down  the 
San  Luis  and  shots  were  heard  around  the  nearest 
corner,  Maid  Marion,  Second,  was  found  crouching 
upon  the  cane-bottomed  chair  that  had  baffled 
her  plans,  half-laughing,  half-crying  with  vexation, 
but  firmly  grasping  in  one  hand  a  tuft  of  coarse, 
straight  black  hair,  and  in  the  other  a  section  of 
Filipino  shirt  the  size  of  a  lady's  kerchief — all  she 
had  to  show  of  her  predatory  visitor  and  to  ac 
count  for  the  unseemly  disturbance  they  had 
made. 

"Just  to  think — just  to  think!"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Brent,  with  clasping  hands,  "  that  this  time,  when 
you  might  most  have  needed  it,  Mr.  Stuyvesant 
should  have  gone  off  with  your  pistol !" 


CHAPTER    XV. 

BUT  there  was  little  merriment  when,  five  min 
utes  later,  the  household  had  taken  account  of 
stock  and  realized  the  extent  of  their  losses. 

Maidie's  had  evidently  been  the  last  room  vis 
ited.  The  dressing-table  and  wardrobe  of  the 
opposite  chamber — that  occupied  by  Colonel  and 
Mrs.  Brent — had  been  ransacked.  The  colonel's 
watch  and  chain, — too  bulky,  he  said,  to  be  worn 
at  dinner  in  white  uniform, — his  Loyal  Legion  and 
Army  of  the  Potomac  insignia,  and  some  prized 
though  not  expensive  trinkets  of  his  good  wife 
were  gone.  Miss  Porter's  little  purse  with  her 
modest  savings  and  a  brooch  that  had  been  her 
mother's  were  missing.  And  with  these  items  the 
skilled  practitioner  had  made  good  his  escape. 

On  the  floor,  just  under  the  window  in  Maidie's 
room,  lay  a  keen,  double-edged  knife.  The  stumps 
of  two  or  three  matches  found  in  the  colonel's 
apartment  and  others  in  Miss  Porter's  showed  that 
the  thief  had  not  feared  to  make  sufficient  light 
for  his  purpose,  and  from  the  floor  of  Marion's 
room,  close  to  the  bureau,  just  where  it  had  been 

222 


A   STORY    OF   MANILA  223 

dropped  when  the  prowler  was  alarmed,  Miss 
Porter  picked  up  one  of  the  old-fashioned  "  phos 
phors"  that  ignite  noiselessly  and  burn  with  but  a 
tiny  flame. 

Marion's  porte-monnaie  was  in  the  upper  drawer, 
untouched,  and  such  jewelry  as  she  owned,  save 
two  precious  rings  she  always  wore,  was  stored  in 
her  father's  safe  deposit  box  in  the  bank  at  home. 
The  colonel  was  really  the  greatest  loser  and  de 
clared  it  served  him  right,  both  provost-marshal 
and  chief  of  police  having  warned  him  to  leave 
nothing  "  lying  around  loose." 

At  sound  of  the  shots  on  the  Calle  Nueva,  Brent 
had  sallied  forth,  and,  rushing  impetuously  into  the 
dimly  lighted  thoroughfare,  had  narrowly  missed 
losing  the  top  of  his  head  as  well  as  his  watch, 
an  excited  sentry  sending  a  bullet  whizzing  into 
space  by  way  of  the  colonel's  pith  helmet,  which 
prompted  the  doctor  to  say  in  his  placid  and  most 
effective  way  that  more  heads  had  been  lost  that 
night  than  valuables,  and  one  bad  shot  begat 
another. 

Sentries  down  towards  the  barracks,  hearing  the 
three  or  four  quick  reports,  bethought  them  of  the 
time-honored  instructions  prescribing  that  in  case 
of  a  blaze,  which  he  could  not  personally  extin- 


224  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

guish,  the  sentry  should  "  shout  '  Fire  !'  discharge 
his  piece,  and  add  the  number  of  his  post."  Sagely 
reasoning  that  nothing  but  a  fire  could  start  such  a 
row,  or  at  least  that  there  was  sufficient  excuse  to 
warrant  their  having  some  fun  of  their  own  to 
enliven  the  dull  hours  of  the  night,  Numbers  7  and 
8  touched  off  their  triggers  and  yelled  "  Fire ;"  5 
and  6,  nearer  home,  followed  suit,  and  in  two 
minutes  the  bugles  were  blowing  the  alarm  all 
over  Ermita  and  Malate,  and  rollicking  young 
regulars  and  volunteers  by  the  hundred  were 
tumbling  out  into  the  street,  all  eagerness  and 
rejoicing  at  the  prospect  of  having  a  lark  with  the 
Bomberos,  the  funny  little  Manila  firemen  with  their 
funnier  little  squirts  on  wheels. 

It  was  fully  half  an  hour  before  the  officers 
could  "  locate"  the  origin  of  the  alarm  and  order 
their  companies  back  to  bed,  an  order  most  re 
luctantly  obeyed,  for  by  that  time  the  nearest 
native  fire-company  was  aroused  and  on  the  way 
to  the  scene.  Others  could  be  expected  in  the 
course  of  the  night,  and  the  Manila  fire  depart 
ment  was  something  that  afforded  the  Yankee 
soldier  unspeakable  joy.  He  hated  to  lose  such 
an  opportunity. 

But  for  all  his  professional  calm,  Dr.  Frank  was 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  225 

by  no  means  pleased  with  the  excitement  attending 
this  episode.  For  an  hour  or  more  officers  from 
all  over  the  neighborhood  gathered  in  front  of 
Brent's  and  had  to  be  told  the  particulars,  "  Billy 
Ray's  daughter"  being  pronounced  the  heroine 
everybody  expected  her  to  be,  while  that  young 
lady  herself,  now  that  the  affair  could  be  called 
closed,  was  in  a  condition  bordering  on  the  elec 
tric.  "  Overwrought  and  nervous,"  said  Miss 
Porter,  "  but  laughing  at  the  whole  business." 

What  Frank  thought  he  didn't  say,  but  he  cut 
short  Sandy's  visit  to  his  sister,  and  suggested  that 
he  go  down  and  tell  the  assemblage  under  the 
front  gallery  that  they  would  better  return  to 
whist — or  whatever  game  was  in  progress  when 
the  alarm  was  given.  The  colonel  could  not  in 
vite  them  in  as  matters  stood,  and  they  slowly 
dispersed,  leaving  only  a  senior  or  two  and  Lieu 
tenant  Stuyvesant  to  question  further,  for  Stuyve- 
sant,  coming  from  afar  and  arriving  late,  was  full 
of  anxiety  and  concern. 

Despite  his  temporary  escape,  circumstances  and 
the  civil  authorities  (now  become  decidedly  mili 
tary)  had  thrown  him  into  still  further  association 
with  the  woman  whom  he  would  so  gladly  have 
shunned — the  importunate  Miss  Perkins.  He  had 

15 


226  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

taken  a  turn  round  the  block — and  refuge  in  the 
English  Club — until  he  thought  her  disposed  of  at 
home  and  his  carriage  returned.  He  had  come 
across  the  little  equipage,  trundling  slowly  up  and 
down  the  street  in  search  of  him,  had  dined  with 
out  appetite  and  smoked  without  relish,  striving  to 
forget  that  odious  woman's  hints  and  aspersions, 
aimed  evidently  at  the  Rays,  and  had  gone  to  his 
own  room  to  write  when  a  corporal  appeared  with 
the  request  from  the  captain  in  charge  of  the  police 
guard  of  Ermita  to  step  down  to  the  office. 

It  was  much  after  nine  then  and  the  excitement 
caused  by  the  alarm  was  about  over,  the  troops 
going  back  to  barracks  and  presumably  to  bed. 
The  captain  apologized  for  calling  on  him  that  late 
in  the  evening,  but  told  him  a  man  recognized  as 
Murray,  deserter  from  the  cavalry,  was  secreted 
somewhere  in  the  neighborhood,  and  it  was  re 
ported  that  he,  Stuyvesant,  could  give  valuable 
information  concerning  him.  Stuyvesant  could 
and  did,  and  in  the  midst  of  it  in  came  Miss  Per 
kins,  flushed,  eager,  and  demanding  to  know  if 
that  villain  was  yet  caught — "  and  if  not,  why 
not?" 

Then  she  caught  sight  of  Stuyvesant  and  pre 
cipitated  herself  upon  him.  That  man  Murray 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  227 

had  hatefully  deceived  her  and  imposed  upon  her 
goodness,  she  declared.  She  had  done  everything 
to  help  him  at  the  Presidio,  and  he  had  promised 
her  a  paper  signed  by  all  the  boys  asking  that  the 
P.  D.  A.'s  be  recognized  as  the  organization  the 
soldiers  favored,  and  showed  her  a  petition  he  had 
drawn  up  and  was  getting  signatures  to  by  the 
hundreds.  That  paper  would  have  insured  their 
being  recognized  by  the  government  instead  of 
those  purse-proud  Red  Cross  people,  and  then  he 
had  wickedly  deserted,  after — after — and  Stuyve- 
sant  could  scarcely  keep  a  straight  face — getting 
fifty  dollars  from  her  and  a  ring  that  he  was  going 
to  wear  always  until  he  came  back  from  Manila — 
an  officer.  Oh,  he  was  a  smart  one,  a  smooth  one! 
All  that  inside  of  three  days  after  he  got  to  the 
Presidio,  and  then  was  arrested,  and  then,  next 
thing  she  knew,  he  had  fled, — petition,  money, 
ring,  and  all. 

Another  soldier  told  her  the  signatures  were 
bogus.  And  that  very  night  she  recognized  him, 
spite  of  his  beard,  and  at  sight  of  her  he  had  cut 
and  run.  ("  Well  he  might !"  thought  Stuyvesant.) 
And  then  Miss  Perkins  yielded  to  the  strain  of 
overtaxed  nerves  and  had  to  be  conducted  home. 

She  lived  but  a  block  or  two  away,  and  it  was 


228  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

Stuyvesant  who  had  to  play  escort.  The  air, 
unluckily,  revived  her,  and  at  the  gateway  she 
turned  and  had  this  to  add  to  her  previous  state 
ments. 

"  You  think  the  Ray  people  your  friends,  lieu 
tenant,  and  I'm  not  the  kind  of  a  woman  to  see  a 
worthy  young  man  trifled  with.  You've  been 
going  there  every  day  and  everybody  knows  it, 
and  knows  that  you  were  sent  away  to  Iloilo  in 
hopes  of  breaking  you  of  it.  That  girl's  promised 
in  marriage  to  that  young  man  who's  got  himself 
into  such  a  scrape  all  on  her  account.  He's  here 
— followed  her  here  to  marry  her,  and  if  he's 
found  he's  liable  to  be  shot.  Oh,  you  can  believe 
or  not  just  as  you  please,  but  never  say  I  didn't 
try  to  give  you  fair  warning.  Know?  Why,  I 
know  much  more  about  what's  going  on  here  than 
your  generals  do.  /  have  friends  everywhere 
among  the  boys ;  they  haven't.  Oh,  very  well,  if 
you  won't  listen !"  (For  Stuyvesant  had  turned 
away  in  wrath  and  exasperation.)  "  But  you'd  be 
wiser  if  you  heard  me  out.  I've  seen  Mr.  Foster 
and  had  the  whole  story  from  his  lips.  He's 
been  there  every  day,  too,  till  he  was  taken 
sick " 

But  Stuyvesant  was  out  of  the  gate  and  at  last 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  229 

out  of  hearing,  and  with  a  vicious  bang  to  the 
door,  the  lady  of  the  P.  D.  A.'s,  so  recently  vic 
timized  by  the  astute  Sackett,  retired  to  the  sanc 
tity  of  her  own  apartment,  marvelling  at  the  in 
fatuation  of  men. 

And  yet,  though  Stuyvesant  had  angrily  striven 
to  silence  the  woman  and  had  left  her  in  disgust, 
her  words  had  not  failed  of  certain  weight.  Again 
he  recalled  with  jealous  pain  the  obvious  indiffer 
ence  with  which  his  approaches  had  been  received. 
True,  no  well-bred  girl  would  be  more  than  con 
ventionally  civil  to  a  stranger  even  under  the  ex 
ceptional  circumstances  of  their  meeting  on  the 
train.  True,  she  was  cordial,  bright,  winsome,  and 
all  that  when  at  last  he  was  formally  presented ; 
but  so  she  was  to  everybody.  True,  they  had  had 
many — at  least  he  had  had  many — delightful  long 
interviews  on  the  shaded  deck  of  the  Sacramento  ; 
but  though  he  would  have  eagerly  welcomed  a 
chance  to  indulge  in  sentiment,  never  once  did 
Marion  encourage  such  a  move.  On  the  contrary, 
he  recalled  with  something  akin  to  bitterness  that 
when  his  voice  or  words  betrayed  a  tendency  to 
wards  such  a  lapse,  she  became  instantly  and  pal 
pably  most  conventional. 

Now,  in  the  light  of  all  he  had  heard  from  vari- 


230  RAY'S  DAUGHTER 

ous  sources,  what  could  he  believe  but  that  she 
was  interested,  to  say  the  least,  in  that  other  man  ? 
Well  and  miserably  he  recalled  the  words  of  Far- 
quhar,  who  had  served  some  years  at  the  same 
station  with  the  Rays :  "  She's  the  bonniest  little 
army  girl  I  know,  and  her  head's  as  level  as  it  is 
pretty — except  on  one  point.  She's  her  father's 
daughter  and  wrapped  up  in  the  army.  She's 
always  said  she'd  marry  only  a  soldier.  But 
Maidie's  getting  wisdom  with  years,  I  fancy. 
Young  Foster  will  be  a  rich  man  in  spite  of  him 
self,  for  he'll  have  his  mother's  fortune,  and  he's 
heels  over  head  in  love  with  her." 

"  But  I  understood,"  interposed  the  general, 
with  a  quick  glance  at  Stuyvesant,  who  had  risen 
as  though  to  get  another  cigar,  "  that  Ray  didn't 
exactly  approve  of  him." 

"  Oh,  Ray  didn't  seem  to  have  any  special  ob 
jection  to  Foster  unless  it  was  that  he  neglected 
his  business  to  lay  siege  to  her.  Foster's  a  gen 
tleman,  has  no  bad  habits,  and  is  the  very  man 
nine  women  out  of  ten  would  rejoice  in  for  a  hus 
band,  and  ninety-nine  out  of  ten,  if  that  were  a 
mathematical  possibility,  would  delight  in  as  a 
son-in-law.  He  isn't  brilliant — buttons  would  have 
supplied  the  lack  had  he  been  in  the  cavalry.  I 


A  STORY  OF  MANILA  231 

dare  say  he'll  be  ass  enough  to  go  in  for  a  com 
mission  now  and  sell  out  his  ranch  for  a  song. 
Then,  she'd  probably  take  him." 

And  then,  too,  as  he  strolled  thoughtfully  up 
the  street,  still  dimly  lighted  by  the  waning  moon 
and  dotted  at  long  intervals  by  tiny  electric  fires, 
Stuyvesant  went  over  in  mind  other  little  things 
that  had  come  to  his  ears,  for  many  men  were  of  a 
mind  with  regard  to  Billy  Ray's  daughter,  and  the 
young  officer  found  himself  vaguely  weighing  the 
reasons  why  he  should  now  cease  to  play  the  moth, 
— why  he  should  be  winging  his  flight  away  from 
the  flame  and  utterly  ignoring  the  fact  that  his  feet, 
as  though  from  force  of  habit,  were  bearing  him 
steadily  towards  it.  The  snap  and  ring  of  a  bay 
oneted  rifle  coming  to  the  charge,  the  stern  voice 
of  a  sentry  at  the  crossing  of  the  Calle  Faura, 
brought  him  to  his  senses. 

"  Halt !     Who  is  there  ?" 

"  Staff  officer,  First  Division,"  was  the  prompt 
reply,  as  Stuyvesant  looked  up  in  surprise. 

"  Advance,  staff  officer,  and  be  recognized,"  came 
the  response  from  a  tall  form  in  blue,  and  the  even 
taller  white  figure  stepped  forward  and  stood  face 
to  face  with  the  guardian  of  the  night. 

"  I  am  Lieutenant   Stuyvesant,  aide-de-camp  to 


232  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

General  Vinton,"  explained  the  challenged  officer, 
noticing  for  the  first  time  a  little  column  of  dusky 
men  in  heavy  leathern  helmets  and  belts  shuffling 
away  towards  the  Jesuit  College  with  an  old-fash 
ioned  diminutive  "  goose-neck"  village  engine  trail 
ing  at  their  heels. 

"  Been  a  fire,  sentry  ?"  he  asked.  "  Where  was 
it?" 

"Up  at  Colonel  Brent's,  sir,  I  believe.  His 
house  fronts  the  parade-ground.  One  moment, 
please  !  Lieutenant  Who,  sir  ?  The  officer  of  the 
guard  orders  us  to  account  for  every  officer  by 
name."  And  Stuyvesant,  who,  in  instant  alarm, 
had  impulsively  started,  was  again  recalled  to  him 
self,  and,  hastily  turning  back,  spoke  aloud  : 

"  Stuyvesant  my  name  is.  I'll  give  it  at  the 
guard-house  as  I  pass." 

Once  more  he  whirled  about,  his  heart  throbbing 
with  anxiety.  Once  more  he  would  have  hurried 
on  his  way  to  the  Calle  San  Luis.  A  fire  there ! 
and  she,  Marion,  still  so  weak ! — exhausted,  pos 
sibly,  by  the  excitement — or  distress — or  whatever 
it  was  that  resulted  from  Brent's  sudden  presenta 
tion  of  that  carte-de-visite.  He  would  fly  to  her  at 
once ! 

For  a  third  time  the  sentry  spoke,  and  spoke  in 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  233 

no  faltering  tone.  He  was  an  American.  He  was 
wearing  the  rough  garb  of  the  private  soldier  in  the 
ranks  of  the  regulars,  but,  like  scores  of  other 
eager  young  patriots  that  year,  he  held  the  diploma 
of  a  great,  albeit  a  foreign,  university.  He  had 
education,  intelligence,  and  assured  social  position 
to  back  the  training  and  discipline  of  the  soldier. 
He  knew  his  rights  as  well  as  his  duties,  and  that 
every  officer  in  the  service,  no  matter  how  high, 
from  commanding  general  down,  was  by  regulation 
enjoined  to  show  respect  to  sentries,  and  this  tall, 
handsome  young  swell,  with  a  name  that  sounded 
utterly  unfamiliar  to  California  ears,  was  in  most 
unaccountable  hurry,  and  spoke  as  though  he,  the 
sentry,  were  exceeding  his  powers  in  demanding 
his  name.  It  put  Private  Thinking  Bayonets  on 
his  mettle. 

"  Halt,  sir,"  said  he.  "  My  orders  are  impera 
tive.  You'll  have  to  spell  that  name." 

In  the  nervous  anxiety  to  which  Stuyvesant  was 
a  prey,  the  sentry's  manner  irritated  him.  It 
smacked  at  first  of  undue,  unnecessary  authority, 
yet  the  soldier  in  him  put  the  unworthy  thought  to 
shame,  and,  struggling  against  his  impatience,  yet 
most  unwillingly,  Stuyvesant  obediently  turned. 
He  had  shouldered  a  musket  in  a  splendid  regi- 


234  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

ment  of  citizen  soldiery  whose  pride  it  was  that  no 
regular  army  inspector  could  pick  flaws  in  their 
performance  of  guard  and  sentry  duty.  He  had 
brought  to  the  point  of  his  bayonet,  time  and 
again,  officers  far  higher  in  rank  than  that  which 
he  now  held.  He  knew  that,  whether  necessary 
or  not,  the  sentry's  demand  was  within  his  rights, 
and  there  was  no  course  for  him  but  compliance. 
He  hastened  back,  and,  controlling  his  voice  as 
much  as  possible,  began  : 

"  You're  right,  sentry  !  S-t-u-y" — when  through 
a  gate- way  across  the  street  north  of  the  Faura 
came  swinging  into  sight  a  little  squad  of  armed 
men. 

Again  the  sentry's  challenge,  sharp,  clear,  res 
onant,  rang  on  the  still  night  air.  Three  soldiers 
halted  in  their  tracks,  the  fourth,  with  the  white 
chevrons  of  a  corporal  on  his  sleeves,  came  bound 
ing  across  the  street  without  waiting  for  a  demand 
to  advance  for  recognition. 

"  Same  old  patrol,  Billy,"  he  called,  as  he  neared 
them.  "  On  the  way  back  to  the  guard-house." 
Then,  seeing  the  straps  on  the  officer's  shoulders, 
respectfully  saluted.  "  Couldn't  find  a  trace  out 
side.  Keep  sharp  lookout,  Number  6,"  he  added, 
and  turning  hurriedly  back  to  his  patrol,  started 


A   STORY    OF   MANILA  235 

with  them  up  the  street  in  the  direction  Stuyve- 
sant  was  longing  to  go. 

"  Sorry  to  detain  you,  sir,  and  beg  pardon  for 
letting  him  run  up  on  us  in  that  way.  We've  got 
extra  orders  to-night.  There's  a  queer  set,  mostly 
natives,  in  that  second  house  yonder  (and  he 
pointed  to  a  substantial  two-story  building  about 
thirty  paces  from  the  corner).  "  They  got  in  there 
while  the  fire  excitement  was  on.  Twice  I've  seen 
them  peeking  out  from  that  door.  That's  why  I 
dare  not  leave  here  and  chase  after  you — after  the 
lieutenant.  Now,  may  I  have  the  name  again, 
sir." 

And  at  last,  without  interruption,  Stuyvesant 
spelled  and  pronounced  the  revered  old  Dutch 
patronymic.  At  last  he  was  able  to  go  unhindered, 
and  now,  overcome  by  anxiety,  eagerness,  and 
dread,  he  hardly  knew  what,  he  broke  into  fleet- 
footed,  rapid  run,  much  to  the  surprise  of  the  staid 
patrol  which  he  overtook  trudging  along  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  street,  two  blocks  away,  and 
never  halted  until  again  brought  up  standing  by  a 
sentry  at  the  San  Luis. 

Ten  minutes  later,  while  still  listening  to  Brent's 
oft-repeated  tale  of  the  theft,  and  still  quivering  a 
little  from  excitement,  Stuyvesant  heard  another 


236  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

sound,  the  rapid,  rhythmic  beat  of  dancing  foot 
steps. 

"  Hullo !"  interrupted  one  of  the  lingering  offi 
cers.  "  Another  fire  company  coming  ?  It's  about 
time  more  began  to  arrive,  isn't  it  ?" 

"It's  a  patrol — and  on  the  jump,  too!  What's 
up,  I  wonder?"  answered  Brent,  spinning  about  to 
face  towards  the  Calle  Real.  There  was  an  officer 
with  this  patrol, — an  officer  who  in  his  eagerness 
could  barely  abide  the  sentry's  challenge. 

"  Officer  of  the  guard — with  patrol,"  he  cried, 
adding  instantly,  as  he  darted  into  view.  "  Sentry, 
which — which  way  did  that  officer  go  ?  Tall  young 
officer — in  white  uniform  !" 

In  surprise,  the  sentry  nodded  towards  the 
speechless  group  standing  in  front  of  Brent's,  and 
to  them  came  the  boy  lieutenant,  panting  and  in 
manifest  excitement.  "  I  beg  pardon,  colonel,"  he 
began,  "  our  sentry,  Number  6,  was  found  a  minute 
ago — shot  dead — down  on  the  Padre  Faura.  My 
men  said  they  saw  an  officer  running  from  the 
spot,  running  this  way,  and  this  gentleman — Mr. 
Stuyvesant,  isn't  it  ?" 

There  was  an  awed  silence,  an  awkward  pause. 
"  I  certainly  was  there  not  long  ago,"  spoke 
Stuyvesant,  presently.  "And  Number  6,  your 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  237 

sentry,  was  then  all  right.  I  certainly  came  run 
ning " 

"  That's  all  I  can  hear,"  was  the  sharp  interrup 
tion.  "  My  orders  are  to  arrest  you.  You're  my 
prisoner,  Mr.  Stuyvesant,"  gasped  the  lad. 

"  Preposterous !"  said  Dr.  Frank  a  few  minutes 
later  when  told  by  an  awe-stricken  group  what  had 
occurred. 

"Preposterous  say  I!"  echoed  Brent.  "And 

yet,  see  here Oh,  of  course,  you  know  Major 

MacNeil,  field  officer  of  the  day,"  he  added,  in 
dicating  a  tall,  thin-faced,  gray-mustached  officer 
of  regulars  who  had  but  just  arrived,  and  who 
now  held  forth  a  gleaming  revolver  with  the  words, 
"  I  picked  this  up  myself — not  ten  yards  from  where 
he  lay." 

It  was  Marion's. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

A  SOLEMN  assemblage  was  that  at  the  Ermita 
quarters  of  the  provost-guard  the  following  day. 
Officers  of  rank  and  soldiers  from  the  ranks,  in 
rusty  blue,  in  gleaming  white,  in  dingy  Khaki 
rubbed  shoulders  and  elbows  in  the  crowded  court 
yard. 

In  the  presence  of  death  the  American  remem 
bers  that  men  are  born  equal,  and  forgets  the  cere 
monious  observance  of  military  courtesies.  All 
voices  were  lowered,  all  discussion  hushed.  There 
was  a  spontaneous  movement  when  the  division 
commander  entered,  and  all  made  way  for  him 
without  a  word,  but  sturdily  stood  the  rank  and 
file  and  held  their  ground  against  all  others,  for 
the  preliminary  examination,  as  it  might  be  called, 
was  to  take  place  at  ten  o'clock. 

The  dead  man  was  of  their  own  grade,  and  an 
ugly  story  had  gone  like  wildfire  through  the  bar 
racks  and  quarters  that  his  slayer  was  a  commis 
sioned  officer,  an  aide-de-camp  of  the  general  him 
self,  a  scion  of  a  distinguished  and  wealthy  family 
of  the  greatest  city  of  America,  and  all  official  in- 
238 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  239 

fluence,  presumably,  would  be  enlisted  in  his  be 
half.  Therefore,  silent,  yet  determined,  were  they 
present  in  strong  force,  not  in  disrespect,  not  in 
defiance,  but  with  that  calm  yet  indomitable  reso 
lution  to  see  for  themselves  that  justice  was  done, 
that  soldiers  of  no  other  than  the  Anglo-Saxon 
race  could  ever  imitate,  or  that  officers,  not  Amer 
ican,  could  ever  understand,  appreciate,  and  even 
tacitly  approve. 

The  dead  man  had  died  instantly,  not  in  the 
flush  and  glory  of  battle,  but  in  the  lonely,  yet 
most  honorable,  discharge  of  the  sacred  duty  of 
the  sentinel.  Murder  most  foul  was  his,  and  had 
he  been  well-nigh  a  pariah  among  them, — a  man 
set  apart  from  his  kind, — the  impulse  of  his  fellow- 
soldiers  would  have  been  to  see  to  it  that  his  death 
at  such  a  time  and  on  such  a  duty  went  not  un 
avenged.  As  it  was,  the  man  who  lay  there, 
already  stiff  and  cold,  was  known  among  them  as 
one  of  the  bravest,  brightest  spirits  of  their  whole 
array,  a  lad  of  birth  probably  more  gentle  than 
that  of  many  an  officer,  of  gifts  of  mind  and 
character  superior  to  those  of  not  a  few  superiors, 
a  fellow  who  had  won  their  fellowship  as  easily 
as  he  had  learned  the  duties  of  the  soldier. 

A  whole  battalion  in  the  regulars  and  dozens  of 


240  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

gallant  boys  in  the  Idahos  and  North  Dakotas 
knew  Billy  Benton  and  had  been  full  of  sympathy 
when  he  was  picked  up  one  night  some  three 
weeks  previous,  his  head  laid  open  by  a  powerful 
blow  from  some  blunt  instrument,  bleeding  and 
senseless.  Even  when  released  from  hospital  a 
fortnight  later  he  was  dazed  and  queer,  was  twice 
reported  out  of  quarters  over  night  and  absent 
from  roll-call,  but  was  forgiven  because  of  "pre 
vious  character,"  and  the  belief  that  he  was  really 
not  responsible  for  these  soldier  solecisms. 

One  thing  seemed  to  worry  him,  and  that  was, 
as  he  admitted,  that  he  had  been  robbed  of  some 
papers  that  he  valued.  But  he  soon  seemed  "all 
right  again,"  said  his  fellows,  at  least  to  the  extent 
of  resuming  duty,  and  when,  clean-shaved  and  in 
his  best  attire,  he  marched  on  guard  that  glad 
October  morning,  they  were  betting  on  him  for  the 
first  chevrons  and  speedy  commission. 

All  that  his  few  intimates,  the  one  or  two  who 
claimed  to  know  him,  could  be  induced  to  admit 
was  that  his  real  name  was  not  Benton,  and  that 
he  had  enlisted  utterly  against  the  wishes  of  his 
kindred.  And  so,  regulars  and  volunteers  alike, 
they  thronged  the  open  patio  and  all  approaches 
thereto,  and  no  officer  would  now  suggest  that 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  241 

that  court  be  cleared.  It  was  best  that  "  Thinking 
Bayonets"  should  be  there  to  hear  and  see  for 
himself. 

"  No,  indeed,  don't  do  anything  of  the  kind," 
said  the  general  promptly  when  asked  half-hesi- 
tatingly  by  the  captain  of  the  guard  whether  he 
preferred  to  exclude  the  men.  And  in  this  un 
usual  presence  the  brief,  straightforward  examina 
tion  went  on. 

First  to  tell  his  tale  was  the  corporal  of  the 
second  relief.  He  had  posted  his  men  between 
8.30  and  8.45,  Private  Benton  on  Number  6  at  the 
corner  of  the  Calle  Real  and  Padre  Faura.  That 
post  had  been  chosen  for  him  as  being  not  very 
far  away  from  that  of  the  guard,  as  the  young 
"feller"  had  not  entirely  recovered  his  strength, 
and  the  officer  of  the  day  had  expressed  some 
regret  at  his  having  so  soon  attempted  to  resume 
duty,  but  Benton  had  laughingly  said  that  he  was 
"  all  right"  and  he  didn't  mean  to  have  other  men 
doing  sentry  go  for  him. 

"  Soon  after  nine,"  said  the  corporal,  "  I  went 
round  warning  all  the  sentries  to  look  out  for 
the  tall  Filipino  and  short,  squat  American,  as 
directed  by  the  officer  of  the  guard.  The  officer 
of  the  guard  himself  went  round  about  that 

16 


242  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

time  personally  cautioning  the  sentries.  There 
was  a  good  deal  of  fun  and  excitement  just  then 
down  the  street.  Number  9  in  the  Calle  Nueve 
had  shot  twice  at  some  fleeing  natives  who 
nearly  upset  him  as  they  dashed  round  the  corner 
from  the  Bagumbayan,  and  he  had  later  mistaken 
Colonel  Brent  in  his  white  suit  for  a  Filipino  and 
nervously  fired.  Numbers  7  and  8  in  *:he  side  streets 
mistook  the  shooting  for  fire  alarm,  and  Private 
Benton  repeated,  in  accordance  with  his  orders,  but 
when  I  (the  corporal)  saw  him  he  was  laughing  to 
kill  himself  over  the  Manila  fire  department." 

Benton  didn't  seem  much  impressed  at  first 
about  the  thief  and  the  deserter,  but  towards  9.45, 
when  the  corporal  again  visited  his  post  and  the 
streets  were  getting  quiet,  Benton  said  there  were 
some  natives  in  the  second  house  across  the  way 
whose  movements  puzzled  him.  They  kept  coming 
to  the  front  door  and  windows  and  peeping  out  at 
him.  A  patrol  came  along  just  then,  searching 
alleyways  and  yards,  and  they  looked  about  the 
premises,  while  he,  Corporal  Scott,  started  west  on 
the  Faura  to  warn  Number  4,  who  was  over  to 
wards  the  beach,  and  while  there  Major  MacNeil, 
the  field  officer  of  the  day,  came  along,  and  after 
making  inquiries  as  to  what  Number  4  had  seen 


A   STORY    OF   MANILA  243 

and  heard  and  asking  him  his  orders,  he  turned 
back  to  the  Faura,  Corporal  Scott  following. 

One  block  west  of  the  Calle  Real  the  major 
stopped  as  though  to  listen  to  some  sound  he 
seemed  to  have  heard  in  the  dark  street  running 
parallel  with  the  Real,  and  then  stepped  into  it  as 
though  to  examine,  so  Scott  followed,  and  almost 
instantly  they  heard- a  muffled  report  "like  a  pistol 
inside  a  blanket,"  and  hastening  round  into  the 
Faura  they  found  Benton  lying  on  his  face  in  the 
middle  of  the  street,  just  at  the  corner  of  the  Calle 
Real,  stone  dead.  His  rifle  they  found  in  the 
gutter  not  twenty  feet  from  him. 

Scott  ran  at  once  to  the  guard -house  three 
blocks  away  and  gave  the  alarm.  Then  the  pa 
trol  said  that  a  tall  officer,  running  full  speed,  had 
passed  them,  and  here  the  provost-marshal  inter 
posed  with — 

"Never  mind  what  the  patrol  said.  Just  tell 
what  you — the  witness — did  next." 

Scott  continued  that  he  and  others  with  the  lieu 
tenant,  officer  of  the  guard,  ran  back  to  Number 
6's  post,  and  there  stood  the  major  with  the 
pistol. 

"  When  we  asked  should  we  search  the  yards 
and  alleys  the  major  nodded,  but  the  moment  he 


244  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

heard  the  men  telling  about  the  running  officer  he 
gave  the  lieutenant  orders " 

And  again  the  provost-marshal  said  "  Never 
mind,"  the  major  would  describe  all  that. 

And  the  major  did.  He  corroborated  what  Cor 
poral  Scott  had  said,  and  then  went  on  with  what 
happened  after  Scott  was  sent  to  alarm  the  guard. 
Barring  some  opening  of  shutters  and  peering  out 
on  the  part  of  natives  anxious  to  know  the  cause  of 
the  trouble,  there  was  no  further  demonstration  until 
Scott  and  others  came  running  back.  But  meanwhile 
something  gleaming  in  the  roadway — the  Calle  Real 
— about  fifteen  paces  from  the  corner  and  up  the 
street — to  the  north  towards  the  Bagumbayan — 
and  close  to  the  sidewalk  attracted  his  attention. 

He  stepped  thither  and  picked  up — this  revolver. 
By  the  electric  light  at  the  corner  he  saw  that  one 
chamber  was  empty.  When  the  guard  came  on 
the  run  and  he  heard  of  the  tall  officer  fleeing  up 
towards  the  Bagumbayan,  the  direction  in  which 
the  pistol  lay,  he  sent  Mr.  Wharton — Lieutenant 
Wharton — with  a  patrol  in  pursuit. 

The  inscription  on  the  pistol  revealed  its  owner 
ship  and  cast  certain  suspicions  that  warranted  his 
action,  he  believed,  in  ordering  the  instant  arrest 
of  the  officer  if  found. 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  245 

Major  MacNeil  went  on  to  say  he  "  had  not  yet 
made  the  acquaintance  of  Lieutenant  Stuyvesant, 
aud  did  not  actually  know  when  he  gave  the  order 
that  it  was  Lieutenant  Stuyvesant  who  ran  up  the 
street" — and  here  the  major  was  evidently  in  a 
painful  position,  but  faced  his  duty  like  a  man  and 
told  his  story  without  passion  or  prejudice,  despite 
the  fact  that  he  declared  the  murdered  man  to  be 
one  of  the  very  best  young  fellows  in  his  battalion, 
and  that  he  was  naturally  shocked  and  angered 
at  his  death. 

Then  the  name  of  Private  Reilly  was  called,  and 
a  keen-featured  little  Irishman  stepped  forward.  It 
was  one  of  the  patrol.  Corporal  Stamford,  first 
relief,  was  in  charge  of  it.  They  had  been  hunting 
as  far  over  as  the  "  Knows-a-lady,"  and  on  coming 
back  Number  6  told  them  of  some  natives  at  the 
second  house.  Corporal  Stamford  posted  him, 
Reilly,  in  the  first  yard  near  the  street  to  head  off 
any  that  tried  to  run  out  that  way,  in  case  they 
stirred  up  a  mare's  nest,  and  took  the  other  "  fel 
lers"  and  went  round  by  the  front.  Nothing  came 
of  it,  but  while  they  were  beating  up  the  yards  and 
enclosures  Reilly  heard  Benton  challenge,  and  saw 
a  tall  officer  come  up  to  be  recognized.  They  had 
some  words,  —  the  officer  and  the  sentry,  —  he 


246  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

couldn't  tell  what,  but  the  officer  spoke  excited 
like,  and  all  of  a  sudden  jumped  away  and  started 
as  though  to  run,  and  Number  6  "  hollered"  after 
him,  though  Reilly  didn't  clearly  understand  what 
was  said.  "  At  all  events  he  made  him  come  back, 
and  it "  Here  Reilly  seemed  greatly  embar 
rassed  and  glanced  about  the  room  from  face  to 
face  in  search  of  help  or  sympathy.  "  It  seemed 
to  kind  of  rile  the  officer.  He  acted  like  he  wasn't 
going  to  come  back  first  off,  and  then  the  corporal 
came  along  with  the  patrol  and  the  officer  had  to 
wait  while  Stamford  was  recognized,  and  the  boys 
was  sayin'  Billy  had  a  right  to  stand  the  corporal 
off  until  the  lieutenant  said  advance  him.  And  we 
was  laughin'  about  it  and  sayin'  Billy  wasn't  the 
boy  to  make  any  mistake  about  his  orders,  when 
we  heard  the  lieutenant  come  a-runnin'  swift  down 
t'other  side  the  street  and  then  saw  him  scootin'  it 
for  the  open  p'rade." 

Did  the  witness  recognize  the  officer  ? — did  he 
see  him  plainly  ? 

"  Yes,  the  electric  light  was  burnin'  at  the  cor 
ner,  and  he'd  seen  him  several  times  driving  by 
the  '  barks.'  " 

Was  the  officer  present  ? — now  ? 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  247 

"  Yes,"  and  Reilly's  face  reddened  to  meet  the 
hue  of  his  hair. 

Reluctantly,  awkwardly,  pathetically  almost,  for 
in  no  wise  did  identification,  as  it  happened,  depend 
on  his  evidence,  the  little  Irish  lad  turned  till  his 
eyes  met  those  of  Stuyvesant,  sitting  pale,  calm, 
and  collected  by  his  general's  side,  and  while  the 
eyes  of  all  men  followed  those  of  Reilly  they  saw 
that,  so  far  from  showing  resentment  or  dismay, 
the  young  gentleman  bowed  gravely,  reassuringly, 
as  though  he  would  have  the  witness  know  his 
testimony  was  exactly  what  it  should  be  and  that 
no  blame  or  reproach  attached  to  him  for  the 
telling  of  what  he  had  seen. 

Then  Dr.  Frank  was  called,  and  he  gave  his 
brief  testimony  calmly  and  clearly.  It  was  mainly 
about  the  pistol.  He  recognized  it  as  one  he  had 
seen  and  examined  the  previous  afternoon  at  Col 
onel  Brent's  quarters  on  the  San  Luis.  It  was 
lying  on  a  little  table  in  the  front  veranda.  He 
had  closely  examined  it — could  not  be  mistaken 
about  it,  and  when  he  left  it  was  still  lying  on  that 
table.  Who  were  present  when  he  left  ?  "  Other 
than  the  immediate  family,  only  Lieutenant  Stuy 
vesant."  Had  he  again  visited  the  colonel's  that 
evening  ?  He  had.  He  returned  an  hour  or  so 


248  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

later  to  dine.  The  ladies  had  then  left  their  seats 
in  the  veranda,  and  he  noticed  that  the  pistol  was 
no  longer  on  the  table ;  presumed  Miss  Ray  had 
taken  it  with  her  to  her  room  and  thought  no 
more  about  it.  As  indicated  by  the  inscription, 
the  pistol  was  her  property. 

Then  Lieutenant  Ray  was  called,  but  there  was 
no  response.  In  low  tone  the  assistant  provost- 
marshal  explained  that  the  orderly  sent  to  Paco 
with  message  for  Lieutenant  Ray  returned  with 
the  reply  that  Mr.  Ray  had  two  days'  leave  and 
was  somewhere  up-town.  He  as  yet  had  not  been 
found. 

A  young  officer  of  artillery  volunteered  the  in 
formation  *  that  late  the  previous  evening,  some 
where  about  ten,  Mr.  Ray  had  called  at  the  Cuartel 
de  Meysic,  far  over  on  the  north  side.  He  was 
most  anxious  to  find  a  soldier  named  Connelly, 
who,  he  said,  was  at  the  Presidio  at  the  time  the 
lieutenant's  quarters  were  entered  and  robbed,  and 
Lieutenant  Abercrombie  had  taken  Mr.  Ray  off  in 
search  of  the  soldier. 

Ray  not  appearing,  the  examination  of  Assist 
ant  Surgeon  Brick  began.  Brick  was  the  first 
medical  officer  to  reach  the  scene  of  the  murder. 
Benton  was  then  stone  dead,  and  brief  examination 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  249 

showed  the  hole  of  a  bullet  of  large  calibre — 
probably  pistol,  44 — right  over  the  heart.  The 
coarse  blue  uniform  shirt  and  the  fine  undergar 
ment  of  Lisle  thread  showed  by  burn  and  powder- 
stain  that  the  pistol  had  been  close  to  or  even 
against  the  breast  of  the  deceased.  The  bullet 
was  lodged,  he  believed,  under  the  shoulder-blade, 
but  no  post-mortem  had  yet  been  permitted,  a  cir 
cumstance  the  doctor  referred  to  regretfully,  and  it 
was  merely  his  opinion,  based  on  purely  superficial 
examination,  that  death  was  instantaneous,  the  re 
sult  of  the  gunshot  wound  referred  to.  Dr. 
Brick  further  gave  it  as  his  professional  opinion 
that  post-mortem  should  be  no  longer  delayed. 

And  then  at  last  came  Stuyvesant's  turn  to  speak 
for  himself,  and  in  dead  silence  all  men  present 
faced  him  and  listened  with  bated  breath  to  his 
brief,  sorrowful  words. 

He  was  the  officer  halted  by  the  sentry  on 
Number  6  and  called  upon  to  come  back.  The 
sentry  did  not  catch  his  name  and  had  to  have  it 
spelled.  He  frankly  admitted  his  impatience,  but 
denied  all  anger  at  the  enforced  detention.  The 
information  about  the  fire  at  Colonel  Brent's  had 
caused  him  anxiety  and  alarm,  and  as  soon  as 
released  by  the  sentry  he  had  run,  had  passed 


25o  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

the  patrol  on  the  run,  but  there  had  been  no 
altercation,  no  misunderstanding  even.  The  sen 
try  had  carried  out  his  orders  in  a  soldierly  way 
that  compelled  the  admiration  of  the  witness,  and 
before  leaving  him  Stuyvesant  had  told  him  that 
he  had  done  exactly  right.  The  news  that  the 
sentry  was  found  dead  five  minutes  thereafter  was 
a  shock.  Lieutenant  Stuyvesant  declared  he  car 
ried  no  fire-arms  whatever  that  night  and  was 
utterly  innocent  of  the  sentry's  death.  He  recog 
nized,  he  said,  the  revolver  exhibited  by  Major 
MacNeil.  He  did  not  hesitate  to  admit  that  he 
had  seen  and  examined  it  late  the  previous  after 
noon  at  the  quarters  of  Colonel  Brent,  that  he  had 
actually  put  it  in  his  trousers  pocket  not  two  min 
utes  before  he  left  the  house  to  go  in  search  of 
Lieutenant  Ray,  but  he  solemnly  declared  that  as 
he  left  the  veranda  he  placed  the  pistol  on  a  little 
table  just  to  the  right  of  the  broad  entrance  to  the 
salon,  within  that  apartment,  and  never  saw  it  again 
until  it  was  produced  here. 

Frank,  candid,  "  open  and  aboveboard"  as  was 
the  manner  of  the  witness,  it  did  not  fail  to  banish 
in  great  measure  the  feeling  of  antagonism  that 
had  first  existed  against  him  in  the  crowded 
throng.  But  in  the  cold  logic  of  the  law  and  the 


A   STORY   OF  MANILA  251 

chain  of  circumstantial  evidence  they  plainly  saw 
that  every  statement,  even  that  of  Stuyvesant  him 
self,  bore  heavily  against  him.  A  lawyer,  had  he 
been  represented  by  counsel,  would  have  per 
mitted  no  such  admissions  as  he  had  made.  A 
gentleman,  unschooled  in  the  law,  preferred  the 
frank  admission  to  the  distress  of  seeing  Mrs. 
Brent — and  perhaps  others — called  into  that  pres 
ence  to  testify  to  his  having  had  the  pistol  with 
him  when  he  left  the  gallery. 

Brent  in  his  bewilderment  had  blurted  out  his 
wife's  words  in  the  hearing  of  the  provost-mar 
shal's  people  late  the  night  before,  and  he  and  his 
household  were  yet  to  be  called,  and  when  called 
would  have  to  say  that  though  they  passed  and 
possibly  repassed  through  the  salon  between  the 
moment  of  Stuyvesant's  departure  and  that  of 
their  going  out  to  dinner,  not  one  of  their  number 
noticed  even  so  bright  and  gleaming  an  object  as 
Maidie's  revolver.  True,  the  lights  were  not  bril 
liant  in  the  salon.  True,  the  little  table  stood  back 
against  the  wall  five  or  six  feet  from  the  door-way. 
Still,  that  pistol  was  a  prominent  object,  and  a  man 
must  have  been  in  extraordinary  haste  indeed  to  leave 
a  loaded  weapon  "  lying  round  loose"  in  the  hall. 

That  was  the  way  "  Thinking  Bayonets"  argued 


252  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

it,  and  soldiers  by  the  score  crowding  the  sidewalk 
and  entrance  and  unable  to  force  their  way  in,  or 
even  to  make  room  for  a  most  importunate  female 
struggling  on  the  outskirts,  hung  on  the  words  of 
an  orderly  who,  despatched  in  further  search  of 
Lieutenant  Ray,  was  forcing  a  way  out. 

"How  is  it  going?"  said  he.  "Why,  that 
young  feller's  just  as  good  as  hanging  himself. 
He  admits  having  had  the  pistol  that  did  the 
business." 

Ten  minutes  later  a  Filipino  servant  went  to 
answer  an  imperative  rap  at  the  panel  in  the  mas 
sive  door  of  No.  199  Calle  San  Luis.  Dr.  Frank  had 
been  early  to  see  his  patient,  and  had  enjoined  upon 
Mrs.  Brent  and  Miss  Porter  silence  as  to  last 
night's  tragedy.  Not  until  she  was  stronger  was 
Miss  Ray  to  be  allowed  to  know  of  the  murder  of 
Private  Benton.  "  By  that  time,"  said  he,  "we 
shall  be  able  to  clear  up  this — mystery — I  hope!' 

The  colonel  had  gone  round  to  the  police-station. 
Mrs.  Brent,  nervous  and  unhappy,  had  just  slipped 
out  for  ten  seconds,  as  she  said  to  Miss  Porter,  to 
see  an  old  army  chum  and  friend  who  lived  only 
three  doors  away.  Miss  Porter,  who  had  been 
awake  hours  of  the  night,  had  finally  succeeded, 
as  she  believed,  in  reading  Maidie  to  sleep,  and 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  253 

then,  stretching  herself  upon  the  bamboo  couch 
across  the  room,  was,  the  next  thing  she  knew, 
aroused  by  voices. 

Sandy  Ray  had  entered  so  noiselessly  that  she 
had  not  heard,  but  Maidie  had  evidently  been 
expecting  him.  In  low,  earnest  tone  he  was  telling 
the  result  of  his  search  the  night  before.  She 
heard  the  words  : 

"  Connelly  is  down  with  some  kind  of  fever  in 
hospital  and  hasn't  seen  or  heard  anything  of  any 
one  even  faintly  resembling  Foster.  Then  I  found 
your  old  friend  the  brakeman.  General  Vinton 
has  got  him  a  good  place  in  the  quartermaster's 
department,  and  he  tells  me  he  knows  nothing,  has 
seen  and  heard  nothing.  Now  I'm  going  to  divi 
sion  head-quarters  to  find  Stuyvesant." 

"  And  then,"  said  Miss  Porter,  "my  heart  popped 
up  into  my  throat  and  I  sprang  from  the  sofa." 
But  too  late.  An  awful,  rasping  voice  at  the  door 
way  stilled  the  soft  Kentucky  tones  and  filled  the 
room  with  dread. 

"  Then  you've  no  time  to  lose,  young  man.  It's 
high  time  somebody  besides  me  set  out  to  help 
him.  That  other  young  man  you  call  Foster  lies 
dead  at  the  police-station, — killed  by  your  pistol, 
Miss  Ray,  and  Mr.  Stuyvesant  goes  to  jail  for  it." 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

IN  so  far  as  human  foresight  could  provide 
against  the  cabling  to  the  States  of  tremendous 
tales  that  had  little  or  no  foundation,  the  com 
manding  general  had  been  most  vigilant.  The 
censorship  established  over  the  despatches  of  the 
correspondents  had  nipped  many  a  sensation  in 
the  bud  and  insured  to  thousands  of  interested 
readers  at  home  far  more  truthful  reports  of  the 
situation  at  Manila  than  would  have  been  the  case 
had  the  press  been  given  full  swing. 

Yet  with  Hong-Kong  only  sixty  hours  away, 
there  was  nothing  to  prevent  their  writing  to  and 
wiring  from  that  cosmopolitan  port,  and  here,  at 
least,  was  a  story  that  would  set  the  States  ablaze 
before  it  could  be  contradicted,  and  away  it  went, 
fast  as  the  Esmeralda  could  speed  it  across  the 
China  Sea  and  the  wires,  with  it,  well-nigh  girdle 
the  globe. 

A  gallant  young  volunteer,  Walter  Foster  of 
Ohio,  serving  in  the  regulars  under  the  assumed 
254 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  255 

name  of  Benton,  foully  murdered  by  Lieutenant 
Gerard  Stuyvesant  of  New  York  !  A  love  affair 
at  the  bottom  of  it  all !  Rivals  for  the  hand  of  a 
fair  army  girl,  daughter  of  a  distinguished  officer 
of  the  regular  service!  Lieutenant  Stuyvesant 
under  guard  !  Terrible  wrath  of  the  soldier's  com 
rades  !  Lynching  threatened  !  Speedy  justice  de 
manded  !  The  maiden  prostrated !  Identification 
of  the  victim  by  Miss  Zenobia  Perkins,  Vice- 
President  and  Accredited  Representative  for  the 
Philippine  Islands  of  the  Society  of  Patriotic 
Daughters  of  America!  Army  circles  in  Manila 
stirred  to  the  bottom !  etc.,  etc. 

Joyous  reading  this  for  friends  and  kindred  in 
the  far-distant  States  !  Admirable  exhibit  of  jour 
nalistic  enterprise  !  The  Hong  Kong  papers  com 
ing  over  in  course  of  another  week  were  full  of  it, 
and  of  appropriate  comment  on  the  remarkable 
depravity  of  the  American  race,  and  Chicago  jour 
nals,  notably  the  Palladium,  bristled  with  editorial 
explosions  over  the  oft-repeated  acts  of  outrage 
and  brutality  on  part  of  the  American  officer  to 
the  friendless  private  in  the  American  ranks. 

And  thousands  of  honest,  well-meaning  men 
and  women,  who  had  seen,  year  after  year,  lie 
after  lie,  one  stupendous  story  after  another,  punc- 


256  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

tured,  riddled,  and  proved  a  vicious  and  malignant 
slander,  swallowed  this  latest  one  whole,  and  mar 
velled  that  the  American  officer  could  be  the  mon 
ster  the  paper  proved  him  to  be. 

But  one  woman  at  last  and  at  least  was  happy, 
perched  now  on  a  pinnacle  of  fame,  and  in  the 
Patriotic  Daughters  of  America  as  represented  by 
their  Vice-President  and  Accredited  Representative 
in  the  Philippines,  virtue  and  rectitude  reigned 
triumphant.  Zenobia  Perkins  was  in  her  glory. 
Of  all  the  citizens  or  soldiers  of  the  United  States 
in  and  about  Manila,  male  or  female,  staff  or  supply, 
signal  or  hospital  corps,  Red  Cross  or  crossed  can 
non,  rifles,  or  sabres,  this  indomitable  woman  was 
now  the  most  sought  after — the  most  in  demand. 
Her  identification  of  the  dead  man  had  been  posi 
tive  and  complete. 

"  I  suspected  instantly,"  she  declared  in  presence 
of  the  assembled  throng,  "  when  I  heard  Lieuten 
ant  Stuyvesant  had  shot  a  soldier,  just  who  it 
might  be.  I  remembered  the  young  man  who 
disappeared  from  the  train  before  we  got  to  Oak 
land.  I  suspected  him  the  moment  the  corporal 
told  me  about  the  mysterious  young  man  trying  to 
see  Miss  Ray.  I  had  my  carriage  chase  right  after 
him  to  the  Nozaleda  and  caught  him,  half-running, 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  257 

half-staggering,  and  I  took  him  driving  until  he 
got  ca-amed  down  and  told  him  he  needn't  worry 
any  more.  He  was  among  friends  at  last,  and  the 
P.  D.  A.'s  would  take  care  of  him  and  guard  his 
secret  and  see  him  done  right  by.  Oh,  yes,  I  did  ! 
We  weren't  going  to  see  an  innocent  boy  shot  as  a 
deserter  when  he  didn't  know  what  he  was  doing. 
He  wouldn't  admit  at  first  that  he  was  Walter 
Foster  at  all,  but  at  last,  when  he  saw  I  was  sure  it 
was  him,  he  just  broke  right  down  and  as  much  as 
owned  right  up.  He  said  he'd  been  slugged  or 
sand-bagged  three  weeks  before  and  robbed  of 
money  and  of  papers  of  value  that  he  needed  to 
help  him  in  his  trouble.  He  asked  me  what  steps 
could  be  taken  to  help  a  poor  fellow  accused  of 
desertion.  He  didn't  dare  say  anything  to  any  of 
the  officers  'cause  the  men  he  trusted  at  all — one 
or  two  well-educated  young  fellows  like  himself — 
found  out  that  he'd  be  shot  if  found  guilty.  The 
only  thing  he  could  do  was  make  a  good  record 
for  himself  in  the  infantry,  and  having  done  that 
he  could  later  on  hope  for  mercy.  He  asked  a 
heap  of  questions,  and  I  just  told  him  to  keep  a 
stiff  upper  lip  and  we'd  see  him  through,  and  he 
plucked  up  courage  and  said  he  believed  he'd  be 
able  to  have  hope  again ; — at  all  events  he'd  go  on 

17 


258  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

duty  right  off.  When  I  asked  him  how  he  dared 
go  to  Colonel  Brent's,  where  at  any  time  Lieu 
tenant  Ray  might  recognize  him,  he  said  he  never 
did  except  when  he  knew  Lieutenant  Ray  was  out 
of  the  way.  Then  I  tried  to  get  him  to  tell  what 
he  expected  to  gain  by  seeing  Miss  Ray,  and  he 
was  confused  and  said  he  was  so  upset  all  over  he 
really  didn't  know  that  he  had  been  there  so  often. 
He  thought  if  he  could  see  her  and  tell  her  the 
whole  story  she  could  have  influence  enough  to 
get  him  out  of  his  scrape.  He  was  going  to  tell 
me  the  whole  story,  but  patrols  and  sentries  were 
getting  too  thick,  and  he  had  to  get  somewhere 
to  change  his  dress  for  roll-call,  and  I  gave  him 
my  address  and  he  was  to  come  and  see  me  in  two 
days,  and  now  he's  killed,  and  it  ain't  for  me  to  say 
why — or  who  did  it." 

Benton's  murder  was  certainly  the  sensation  of 
the  week  in  Manila,  for  there  were  features  con 
nected  with  the  case  that  made  it  still  more  per 
plexing,  even  mysterious. 

Major  Farquhar,  who  must  have  seen  young 
Foster  frequently  at  Fort  Averill,  had  been  sent  to 
survey  the  harbor  of  Iloilo  and  could  not  be 
reached  in  time,  but  Dr.  Frank,  called  in  course 
of  the  day  to  identify  the  remains,  long  and  care- 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  259 

fully  studied  the  calm,  waxen  features  of  the  dead 
soldier,  and  said  with  earnest  conviction : 

"  This  is  undoubtedly  the  young  man  who  ap 
peared  at  Colonel  Brent's  and  whom  I  sought  to 
question,  but  who  seemed  to  take  alarm  at  once 
and,  with  some  confused  apology,  backed  away. 
He  was  dressed  very  neatly  in  the  best  white  drill 
ing  sack-coat  and  trousers  as  made  in  Manila,  with 
a  fine  straw  hat  and  white  shoes  and  gloves,  but  he 
had  a  fuzzy  beard  all  over  his  face  then,  and  his 
manner  was  nervous  and  excitable.  His  eyes  alone 
showed  that  he  was  unstrung,  bodily  and  mentally. 
I  set  him  down  for  a  crank  or  some  one  just  pick 
ing  up  from  serious  illness.  The  city  is  full  of 
new-comers,  and  as  yet  no  one  knows  how  many 
strangers  have  recently  come  to  town.  I  saw  him 
only  that  once  in  a  dim  light,  but  am  positive  in 
this  identification." 

Two  or  three  non-commissioned  officers  of  Ben- 
ton's  regiment  were  examined.  Their  stories  were 
concise  and  to  the  point.  The  young  soldier  had 
come  with  the  recruits  from  San  Francisco  along 
late  in  August.  He  was  quiet,  well-mannered, 
attended  strictly  to  his  own  business,  and  was 
eager  to  learn  everything  about  his  duties.  They 
"  sized  him  up;>  as  a  young  man  of  education  and 


26o  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

good  family  who  hadn't  influence  enough  to  get  a 
commission  and  so  had  enlisted  to  win  it.     He  had 
money,  but  no  bad  habits.     He  helped  in  the  office 
with  the  regimental  papers,  and  could  have  been 
excused  from  all  duty  and  made  clerk,  but  wouldn't 
be.     He  said  he'd  help  whenever  they  wanted  him, 
but  he  didn't  wish  to  be  excused  from  guard  or 
drills  or  patrol  or  picket — said  he  wanted  to  learn 
all  there  was  in  it.     Even  the  rough  fellows  in  the 
ranks  couldn't  help  liking  him.     He  had  a  pleasant 
word   for  everybody  that  didn't  bother   him   with 
questions.     He   made  one   or   two   acquaintances, 
but  kept  mostly  to  himself;  never  got  any  letters 
from   America,   but   there   were  two    from    Hong 
Kong,  perhaps  more.     If  he  wrote  letters  himself, 
he  posted  them  in  town.      They  never  went  with 
the  company  mail  from  the  cuartel.      Everybody 
seemed  to  know  that  Benton  wasn't  his  own  name, 
but  that  was  nothing.    The  main  thing  queer  about 
him  was  that  he  got  a  pass  whenever  he  could  and 
went  by  himself,  most  generally  out  to  Paco,  where 
the  cavalry  were,  yet  he  said  he  didn't  know  any 
body  there.     It  was  out  Paco  way  on  the  Calzada 
Herran,  close  to  the  corner  of  the  Singalon  road, 
the  patrol  picked  him  up  with  his  head  laid  open, 
and  he'd  been  flighty  pretty  much  ever  since  and 


A    STORY   OF   MANILA  261 

troubled  about  being  robbed.  Seemed  all  right 
again,  however,  when  reporting  for  duty,  and  per 
fectly  sane  and  straight  then. 

Two  very  bright  young  soldiers,  Clark  and 
Hunter,  were  called  in  for  their  statements.  They, 
too,  had  enlisted  in  a  spirit  of  patriotism  and  de 
sire  for  adventure;  never  knew  Benton  till  the 
voyage  was  nearly  over,  then  they  seemed  to  drift 
together,  as  it  were,  and  kept  up  their  friendship 
after  reaching  Manila.  Benton  was  not  his  real 
name,  and  he  was  not  a  graduate  of  any  American 
college.  He  had  been  educated  abroad  and  spoke 
French  and  German.  No,  they  did  not  know 
what  university  he  attended.  He  was  frank  and 
pleasant  so  long  as  nobody  tried  to  probe  into  his 
past;  never  heard  him  mention  Lieutenant  Stuy- 
vesant.  All  three  of  them,  Benton,  Clarke,  and 
Hunter,  had  observed  that  young  officer  during 
the  month  as  he  drove  by  barracks,  sometimes 
with  the  general,  sometimes  alone,  but  they  did 
not  know  his  name,  and  nothing  indicated  that 
Benton  had  any  feeling  against  him  or  that  he  had 
seen  him.  They  admitted  having  conveyed  the 
idea  to  comrades  that  they  knew  more  about 
Benton  than  they  would  tell,  but  it  was  a  "  bluff." 
Everybody  was  full  of  speculation  and  curiosity, 


262  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

and — well,  just  for  the  fun  of  the  thing,  they  "  let 
on,"  as  they  said,  that  they  were  in  his  confidence, 
but  they  weren't,  leastwise  to  any  extent.  They 
knew  he  had  money,  knew  he  went  off  by  himself, 
and  warned  him  to  keep  a  look  out  or  he'd  be  held 
up  and  robbed  some  night. 

The  only  thing  of  any  importance  they  had  to 
tell  was  that  one  day,  just  before  his  misfortune, 
Benton  was  on  guard  and  posted  as  sentry  over 
the  big  Krupps  in  the  Spanish  battery  at  the  west 
end  of  the  Calle  San  Luis.  Clarke  and  Hunter 
had  a  kodak  between  them  and  a  consuming  de 
sire  to  photograph  those  guns.  The  sentries  pre 
viously  posted  there  refused  to  let  them  come 
upon  the  parapet,  —  said  it  was  "  'gainst  orders." 
Benton  said  that  unless  positive  orders  were  given 
to  him  to  that  effect,  he  would  not  interfere.  So 
they  got  a  pass  on  the  same  day  and  Benton  easily 
got  that  post, — men  didn't  usually  want  it,  it  was 
such  a  bother, — but,  unluckily,  with  the  post  Ben- 
ton  got  the  very  orders  they  dreaded.  So  when 
they  would  have  made  the  attempt  he  had  to  say, 
"  No."  They  came  away  crestfallen,  and  stumbled 
on  two  sailor-looking  men  who,  from  the  shelter 
of  a  heavy  stone  revetment  wall,  were  peering  with 
odd  excitement  of  manner  at  Benton,  who  was 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  263 

again  marching  up  and  down  his  narrow  post,  a 
very  soldierly  figure. 

"  That  young  feller  drove  you  back,  did  he  ?" 
inquired  one  of  them,  a  burly,  thick-set,  hulking 
man  of  middle  height.  "  Puttin'  on  considerable 
airs,  ain't  he  ?  What's  he  belong  to  ?" 

" — th  Infantry,"  answered  Clarke  shortly,  not 
liking  the  stranger's  looks,  words,  or  manner,  and 
then  pushed  on ;  but  the  stranger  followed,  out  of 
sight  of  the  sentry  now,  and  wanted  to  continue 
the  conversation. 

"  Sure  he  ain't  in  the  cavalry  ?"  asked  the  same 
man. 

"  Cocksure !"  was  the  blunt  reply.  "  What's  it 
to  you,  anyhow  ?" 

"  Oh,  nothin' ;  thought  I'd  seen  him  before. 
Know  his  name  ?" 

"  Name's  Benton,  far  as  I  know.  Come  on, 
Hunter,"  said  Clarke,  obviously  unwilling  to  stay 
longer  in  such  society,  and  little  more  was  thought 
of  it  for  the  time  being ;  but  now  the  provost-mar 
shal's  assistant  wished  further  particulars.  Was 
there  anything  unusual  about  the  questioner's 
teeth?  And  a  hundred  men  looked  up  in  sur 
prise  and  suddenly  rearoused  interest. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Clarke,  "  one  tooth  was  missing, 


264  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

upper  jaw,  next  the  big  eye-tooth ;"  and  as  the 
witness  stood  down  the  general  and  the  ques 
tioning  officer  beamed  on  each  other  and  smiled. 

An  adjournment  was  necessitated  during  the 
early  afternoon.  Lieutenant  Ray's  statement  was 
desired,  also  that  of  Private  Connelly  of  the  artil 
lery,  and  an  effort  had  been  made  through  the 
officers  of  the  cavalry  at  Paco  to  find  some  of  the 
recruits  who  were  of  the  detachment  now  quite 
frequently  referred  to  in  that  command  as  "  the 
singed  cats."  But  it  transpired  that  most  of  them 
had  been  assigned  to  troops  of  their  regiment  not 
yet  sent  to  Manila,  only  half  the  regiment  being 
on  duty — foot  duty  at  that — in  the  Philippines. 
The  only  man  among  them  who  had  travelled 
with  Foster  from  Denver  as  far  as  Sacramento  was 
the  young  recruit,  Mellen.  He  was  on  outpost, 
but  would  be  relieved  and  sent  to  Ermita  as  quickly 
as  possible. 

Connelly,  said  the  surgeon  at  the  Cuartel  de 
Meysic,  was  too  ill  to  be  sent  thither,  unless  on  a 
matter  of  vital  importance,  and  Sandy  Ray,  has 
tening  from  Maidie's  bedside  in  response  to  a 
summons,  was  met  by  the  tidings  that  a  recess 
had  been  ordered,  and  that  he  would  be  sent  for 
again  when  needed. 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  265 

Everywhere  in  Malate,  Ermita,  Paco,  and,  for 
that  matter,  the  barracks  and  quarters  of  Manila, 
the  astonishing  story  was  the  topic  of  all  tongues 
that  day.  Among  the  regulars  by  this  time  the 
tale  of  Foster's  devotion  to  Maidie  Ray  was  well 
known,  while  that  of  Stuyvesant's  later  but  assid 
uous  courtship  was  rapidly  spreading. 

Men  spoke  in  murmurs  and  with  sombre  faces, 
and  strove  to  talk  lightly  on  other  themes,  but  the 
tragedy,  with  all  the  honored  names  it  involved, 
weighed  heavily  upon  them.  Stuyvesant  came  to 
them,  to  be  sure,  a  total  stranger,  but  Vinton  had 
long  known  him,  and  that  was  enough.  His  name, 
his  lineage,  his  high  position  socially,  all  united  to 
throw  discredit  on  the  grave  suspicion  that  attached 
to  him.  Yet,  here  they  were,  brought  face  to  face, 
rivals  for  the  hand  of  as  lovely  a  girl  as  the  army 
ever  knew.  It  was  even  possible  that  Foster  was 
the  aggressor.  Reilly's  reluctant  words  gave  proof 
that  discussion  of  some  kind  had  occurred,  and 
Stuyvesant  broke  away  and  was  apparently  wrath 
ful  at  being  compelled  to  go  back;  then  more 
words,  longer  detention ;  then  a  swift-running 
form,  Stuyvesant's,  away  from  the  scene;  then 
the  fatal  pistol ;  and  against  this  chain  of  circum 
stances  only  the  unsupported  statement  of  the 


266  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

accused  that  he  left  that  revolver  on  the  table  in 
the  salon,  left  it  where  it  was  never  afterwards 
seen.  No  wonder  men  shook  their  heads. 

It  was  three  in  the  afternoon  when  the  examina 
tion  was  resumed.  Meantime,  from  all  over  Ma 
nila  came  the  correspondents,  burning  with  zeal 
and  impatience,  for  the  Esmeralda  was  scheduled 
to  leave  at  five,  and  a  stony-hearted  censor  at  the 
Ayuntamiento  had  turned  down  whole  pages  of 
thrilling  "  copy"  that  would  cost  three  dollars  a 
word  to  send  to  the  States,  but  sell  for  thirty  times 
as  much  when  it  got  there. 

"  Despite  the  positive  identification  of  the  re 
mains,"  wrote  one  inspired  journalist,  "  by  such  an 
unimpeachable  and  intelligent  woman  as  Zenobia 
Perkins,  who  attended  the  murdered  lad  after  he 
was  so  severely  burned  upon  the  train, — despite 
the  equally  positive  recognition  by  that  eminent 
and  distinguished  surgeon,  Dr.  Frank,  this  mili 
tary  satrap  and  censor  dares  to  say  that  not  until 
the  identity  of  the  deceased  is  established  to  the 
satisfaction  of  the  military  authorities  will  the  re 
port  be  cabled.  How  long  will  the  people  of 
America  submit  to  such  tyrannical  dictation  ?" 

When  the  provost-marshal  himself,  with  his 
assistants  and  Vinton  and  Stuyvesant,  returned  at 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  267 

three  and  found  Zenobia  the  vortex  of  a  storm  of 
questioners,  the  centre  of  a  circle  of  rapid-writing 
scribes,  these  latter  could  have  sworn — did  swear, 
some  of  them — that,  far  from  expediting  matters 
in  order  that  a  full  report  might  be  sent  by  the, 
Esmeralda,  the  officials  showed  a  provoking  and  ex-' 
asperating  disposition  to  prolong  and  delay  them. 

And  even  at  this  time  and  at  this  distance,  with 
all  his  regard,  personal  and  professional,  for  the 
official  referred  to,  the  present  chronicler  is  unable 
entirely  to  refute  the  allegation. 

Out  in  the  street  a  score  of  carriages  and  as 
many  guiles  and  carromattas  stood  waiting  by  the 
curb,  and  gallant  Captain  Taylor,  of  the  Esmeralda, 
could  have  added  gold  by  the  hundred  to  his  well- 
earned  store  would  he  but  have  promised  to  hold 
his  ship  until  the  court — not  the  tide — served.  But 
an  aide  of  the  commanding  general  had  driven  to 
the  ship  towards  two  o'clock  and  said  something 
to  that  able  seaman, — no  power  of  the  press  could 
tell  what, — and  all  importunity  as  to  delaying  his 
departure  there  was  but  one  reply, — 

"  Five  sharp,  and  not  a  second  later !" 

It  was  after  three — yes,  long  after — that  wit 
nesses  of  consequence  came  up  for  examination. 
Dr.  Brick  had  got  the  floor  and  was  pleading  post- 


268  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

mortem  at  once.  In  this  climate  and  under  such 
conditions  decomposition  would  be  so  rapid,  said 
he,  that  "  by  to-morrow  his  own  mother  couldn't 
recognize  him."  But  the  provost-marshal  drawled 
that  he  didn't  see  that  further  mutilation  would 
promote  the  possibility  of  recognition,  and  Brick 
was  set  aside. 

It  was  quarter  to  four  when  young  Mellen  was 
bidden  to  tell  whether  he  knew,  and  what  he  knew 
of,  the  deceased,  and  all  men  hushed  their  very 
breath  as  the  lad  was  conducted  to  the  blanket- 
shrouded  form  under  the  overhanging  gallery  in 
the  open  patio.  The  hospital  steward  slowly 
turned  down  the  coverlet,  and  Mellen,  well-nigh 
as  pallid  as  the  corpse,  was  bidden  to  look.  Look 
he  did,  long  and  earnestly.  The  little  weights  that 
some  one  had  placed  on  the  eyelids  were  lifted ; 
the  soft  hair  had  been  neatly  brushed;  the  lips 
were  gently  closed ;  the  delicate,  clear-cut  features 
wore  an  expression  of  infinite  peace  and  rest ;  and 
Mellen  slowly  turned  and,  facing  the  official  group 
at  the  neighboring  table,  nodded. 

"  You  think  you  recognize  the  deceased  ?"  came 
the  question.  "  If  so,  what  was  his  name  ?" 

"  I  think  so,  yes,  sir.  It's  Foster — at  least  that's 
what  I  heard  it  was." 


A  STORY   OF  MANILA  269 

"  Had  you  ever  known  him  ? — to  speak  to  ?" 

"  He  was  in  the  same  detachment  on  the  train. 
Don't  know  as  I  ever  spoke  to  him,  sir,"  was  the 
answer. 

"  But  you  think  you  know  him  by  sight  ? 
Where  did  you  first  notice  him  ?" 

"  Think  it  was  Ogden,  sir.  I  didn't  pay  much 
attention  before  that.  A  man  called  Murray  knew 
him  and  got  some  money  from  him.  That's  how 
I  came  to  notice  him.  The  rest  of  us  hadn't  any 
to  speak  of." 

"  Ever  see  him  again  to  speak  to  or  notice  par 
ticularly  after  you  left  Ogden  ?  Did  he  sit  near 
you  ?"  was  the  somewhat  caustic  query. 

"  No,  sir,  only  just  that  once." 

"  But  you  are  sure  this  is  the  man  you  saw  at 
Ogden  ?" 

Mellen  turned  uneasily,  unhappily,  and  looked 
again  into  the  still  and  placid  face.  That  meeting 
was  on  a  glaring  day  in  June.  This  was  a  clouded 
afternoon  in  late  October  and  nearly  five  months 
had  slipped  away.  Yet  he  had  heard  the  solemn 
story  of  murder  and  had  never,  up  to  now,  im 
agined  there  could  be  a  doubt.  In  mute  patience 
the  sleeping  face  seemed  appealing  to  him  to  speak 
for  it,  to  own  it,  to  stand  between  it  and  the  pos- 


27o  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

sibility  of  its  being  buried  friendless,  unrecog 
nized. 

"  It's — it's  him  or  his  twin  brother,  sir,"  said 
Melien. 

"  One  question  more.  Had  you  heard  before 
you  came  here  who  was  killed  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir.     They  said  it  was  Foster." 

And  now,  with  pencils  swiftly  plying,  several 
young  civilians  were  edging  to  the  door. 

James  Farnham  was  called,  and  a  sturdy  young 
man,  with  keen,  weather-beaten  face,  stepped  into 
the  little  open  space  before  the  table.  Three  fin 
gers  were  gone  from  the  hand  he  instinctively  held 
up,  as  though  expecting  to  be  sworn.  His  testi 
mony  was  decidedly  a  disappointment.  Farnham 
said  that  he  was  brakeman  of  that  train  and  would 
know  some  of  that  squad  of  recruits  anywhere,  but 
this  one, — well,  he  remembered  talking  to  one  man 
at  Ogden,  a  tall,  fine-looking  young  feller  some 
thing  %very  like  this  one.  This  might  have  been 
him  or  it  might  not.  He  couldn't  even  be  sure 
that  this  was  one  of  the  party.  He  really  didn't 
know.  But  there  was  a  chap  called  Murray  that 
he'd  remember  easy  enough  anywhere. 

And  then  it  was  after  four  and  the  race  for  the 
Esmeralda  began.  It  was  utterly  unnecessary, 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  271 

said  certain  bystanders,  to  question  any  more 
members  of  the  guard,  but  the  provost-marshal 
did,  and  not  until  4.30  did  he  deign  to  send  for 
the  most  important  witness  of  all,  the  brother  of 
the  young  girl  to  whom  the  deceased  had  been  so 
devotedly  attached.  They  had  not  long  to  wait, 
for  Sandy  Ray  happened  to  be  almost  at  the  door. 

The  throng  seemed  to  take  another  long  breath, 
and  then  to  hold  it  as,  the  few  preliminaries  an 
swered,  Mr.  Ray  was  bidden  to  look  at  the  face 
of  the  deceased.  Pale,  composed,  yet  with  infinite 
sadness  of  mien,  the  young  officer,  campaign  hat 
in  hand,  stepped  over  to  the  trestle,  and  the  stew 
ard  again  slowly  withdrew  the  light  covering,  again 
exposing  that  placid  face. 

The  afternoon  sunshine  was  waning.  The  bright 
glare  of  the  mid-day  hours  had  given  place  within 
the  enclosure  to  the  softer,  almost  shadowy  light 
of  early  eve.  Ray  had  but  just  come  in  from  the 
street  without  where  the  slanting  sunbeams  burst 
ing  through  the  clouds  beat  hot  upon  the  dazzling 
walls,  and  his  eyes  had  not  yet  become  accustomed 
to  the  change.  Reverently,  pityingly,  he  bent  and 
looked  upon  the  features  of  the  dead.  An  ex 
pression,  first  of  incredulity,  then  of  surprise,  shot 
over  his  face. 


272  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

He  closed  his  eyes  a  second  as  though  to  give 
them  strength  for  sterner  test,  and  then,  bending 
lower,  once  more  looked;  carefully  studied  the 
forehead,  eyebrows,  lashes,  mouth,  nose,  and  hair, 
then,  straightening  up,  he  slowly  faced  the  waiting 
room  and  said, — 

"  I  never  set  eyes  on  this  man  in  my  life  before 
to-day." 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

To  say  that  Mr.  Ray's  abrupt  announcement  was 
a  surprise  to  the  dense  throng  of  listeners  is  putting 
it  mildly.  To  say  that  it  was  received  with  in 
credulity  on  part  of  the  soldiery,  and  concern,  if 
not  keen  apprehension,  by  old  friends  of  Sandy's 
father  who  were  present,  is  but  a  faint  description 
of  the  effect  of  the  lad's  emphatic  statement. 

To  nine  out  of  ten  among  the  assembly  the 
young  officer  was  a  total  stranger.  To  more  than 
nine  out  of  ten  the  identification  of  the  dead  as 
Walter  Foster,  Maidie  Ray's  luckless  lover,  was 
already  complete,  and  many  men  who  have  made 
up  their  minds  are  incensed  at  those  who  dare  to 
differ  from  them. 

True,  Mr.  Stuyvesant  had  said  that  the  sentry, 
Number  6,  did  not  remind  him  except  in  stature, 
form,  and  possibly  in  features,  of  the  recruit  he 
knew  as  Foster  on  the  train.  He  did  not  speak 
like  him.  But,  when  closely  questioned  by  the 
legal  adviser  of  the  provost-marshal's  department 
— the  officer  who  conducted  most  of  the  examina 
tion  with  much  of  the  manner  of  a  prosecuting 

18  273 


274  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

attorney,  Mr.  Stuyvesant  admitted  that  he  had 
only  seen  Foster  once  to  speak  to,  and  that  was  at 
night  in  the  dim  light  of  the  Sacramento  station 
on  what  might  be  called  the  off-side  of  the  train, 
where  the  shadows  were  heavy,  and  while  the  face 
of  the  young  soldier  was  partially  covered  with  a 
bandage.  Yet  Vinton  attached  importance  to  his 
aide-de-camp's  opinion,  and  when  Ray  came  out 
flat-footed,  as  it  were,  in  support  of  Stuyvesant's 
views,  the  general  was  visibly  gratified. 

But,  except  for  these  very  few,  Ray  had  spoken 
to  unbelieving  ears.  Sternly  the  military  lawyer 
took  him  in  hand  and  began  to  probe.  No  need 
to  enter  into  details.  In  ten  minutes  the  indignant 
young  gentleman,  who  never  in  his  life  had  told  a 
lie,  found  himself  the  target  of  ten  score  of  hostile 
eyes,  some  wrathful,  some  scornful,  some  con 
temptuous,  some  insolent,  some  only  derisive,  but 
all,  save  those  of  a  few  silently  observant  officers, 
threatening  or  at  least  inimical. 

Claiming  first  that  he  knew  Walter  Foster  well 
(and,  indeed,  it  seemed  to  him  he  did,  for  his 
mother's  letters  to  the  Big  Horn  ranch  had  much 
to  say  of  Maidie's  civilian  admirer,  though  Maidie 
herself  could  rarely  be  induced  to  speak  of  him), 
Ray  was  forced  to  admit  that  he  had  met  him  only 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  275 

twice  or  thrice  during  a  brief  and  hurried  visit  to 
Fort  Averill  to  see  his  loved  ones  before  they 
moved  to  Fort  Leavenworth,  and  then  he  owned 
he  paid  but  little  attention  to  the  sighing  swain. 
Questioned  as  to  his  opportunities  of  studying  and 
observing  Foster,  Sandy  had  been  constrained  to 
say  that  he  hadn't  observed  him  closely  at  all.  He 
"  didn't  want  to — exactly."  They  first  met,  it 
seems,  in  saddle.  The  winter  weather  was  glori 
ous  at  Averill.  They  had  a  fine  pack  of  hounds ; 
coursing  for  jack-rabbit  was  their  favorite  sport, 
and,  despite  the  fact  that  Foster  had  a  beautiful 
and  speedy  horse,  "  his  seat  was  so  poor  and  his 
hand  so  jerky  he  never  managed  to  get  up  to  the 
front,"  said  Sandy. 

It  was  not  brought  out  in  evidence,  but  the  fact 
was  that  Sandy  could  never  be  got  to  look  on 
Foster  with  the  faintest  favor  as  a  suitor  for  his 
sister's  hand.  A  fellow  who  could  neither  ride, 
shoot,  nor  spar  —  whose  accomplishments  were 
solely  of  the  carpet  and  perhaps  the  tennis-court 
— the  boy  had  no  use  for.  He  and  Maidie  rode  as 
though  born  to  the  saddle.  He  had  seen  Foster 
in  an  English  riding-suit  and  English  saddle  and 
an  attempt  at  the  English  seat,  but  decidedly  with 
out  the  deft  English  hand  on  his  fretting  hunter's 


276  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

mouth  the  one  day  that  they  appeared  in  field  to 
gether,  and  the  sight  was  too  much  for  Sandy. 
That  night  at  dinner,  and  the  later  dance,  Foster's 
perfection  of  dress  and  manner  only  partially  re 
deemed  him  in  Sandy's  eyes,  and — well — really, 
that  was  about  all  he  ever  had  seen  of  Foster. 

Questioned  as  to  his  recollection  of  Foster's 
features,  stature,  etc.,  Sandy  did  his  best,  and  only 
succeeded  in  portraying  the  deceased  almost  to  the 
life.  Except,  he  said,  Foster  had  long,  thick,  curv 
ing  eyelashes,  and  "  this  man  hasn't" — but  it  was 
remembered  that  brows  and  lashes  both  were 
singed  off  in  the  fire.  So  that  point  failed.  Ques 
tioned  as  to  whether  he  realized  that  his  descrip 
tion  tallied  closely  with  the  appearance  of  the 
deceased,  Sandy  said  that  that  all  might  be,  but 
still  "  this  isn't  Foster."  Questioned  as  to  whether, 
if  the  deceased  were  again  to  have  the  color  and 
action, — the  life  that  Foster  had  a  year  ago, — might 
not  the  resemblance  to  Foster  be  complete  ? — 
Sandy  simply  "  couldn't  tell." 

Nearly  an  hour  was  consumed  in  trying  to  con 
vince  him  he  must,  or  at  least  might,  be  mistaken, 
but  to  no  purpose.  He  mentioned  a  card  photo 
graph  of  Foster  in  ranch  costume  that  would  con 
vince  the  gentlemen,  he  thought,  that  there  was  no 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  277 

such  very  strong  resemblance,  and  a  note  was 
written  to  Miss  Porter  asking  her  to  find  and  send 
the  picture  in  question.  It  came,  a  cabinet  photo 
of  a  tall,  slender,  well-built  young  fellow  with 
dark  eyes  and  brows  and  thick,  curving  lashes  and 
oval,  attractive  face,  despite  its  boyishness,  and 
nine  men  out  of  ten  who  saw  and  compared  it 
with  the  face  of  the  dead  declared  it  looked  as 
though  it  had  been  taken  for  the  latter  perhaps  a 
year  or  so  agone.  Ray  had  hurt  his  own  case, 
and,  when  excused  to  return  to  his  sister's  side, 
went  forth  into  the  gathering  twilight  stricken  with 
the  consciousness  that  he  was  believed  to  have  lied 
in  hopes  of  averting  scandal  from  that  sister's  name. 

And  on  the  morrow  with  that  post-mortem,  so 
insisted  on  by  Brick,  no  longer  delayed,  the  dead 
again  lay  mutely  awaiting  the  final  action  of  the 
civil-military  authorities,  and  to  the  surprise  of  the 
officers  and  guards,  before  going  to  the  daily 
routine  that  kept  him  from  early  morn  till  late  at 
night  in  his  beleaguered  office,  Drayton  came  and 
bowed  his  gray  head  and  gazed  with  sombre  eyes 
into  the  sleeping  features  now  before  him. 

A  pinched  and  tired  look  was  coming  over  the 
waxen  face  that  had  been  so  calm  and  placid,  as 
though  in  utter  weariness  over  this  senseless  delay. 


278  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

Drayton  had  been  told  of  young  Ray's  almost 
astounding  declaration,  and  officers  of  the  law 
half  expected  him  to  make  some  adverse  comment 
thereon,  but  he  did  not.  Alert  correspondents, 
amazed  to  see  the  corps  commander  at  such  a 
place  and  so  far  from  the  Ayuntamiento,  sur 
rounded  him  as  he  would  have  retaken  his  seat 
in  his  carriage,  and  clamored  for  something  as 
coming  from  him  in  the  way  of  an  expression  of 
opinion,  which,  with  grave  courtesy,  the  general 
declined  to  give,  but  could  not  prevent  appearing 
a  week  later  in  a  thousand  papers  and  in  a  dozen 
different  forms — ferried  over  to  Hong  Kong  by  the 
Shogun  or  some  other  ship,  and  cabled  thence  to 
waiting  Christendom. 

Drayton  had  his  own  reasons  for  wishing  to  see 
the  remains,  then  Vinton,  and  later  Ray,  and  as 
his  movements  were  closely  followed,  the  wits  of 
the  correspondents  were  sorely  taxed.  But  the 
examination  was  to  be  resumed  at  nine.  A  rumor 
was  running  wild  that  Miss  Ray  herself  was  to  be 
summoned  to  appear,  and  Drayton  had  to  be 
dropped  in  favor  of  a  more  promising  sensation. 

It  began  with  dreary  surgical  technicalities. 
The  heavy  bullet  had  traversed  the  ascending 
aorta  "  near  its  bifurcation,"  said  Brick,  who, 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  279 

though  only  an  autopsical  adjunct,  was  permitted 
to  speak  for  his  associates.  Death,  said  he,  had 
resulted  from  shock  and  was  probably  instan 
taneous.  No  other  cause  could  be  attributed. 
No  other  wound  was  discovered.  No  marks 
of  scuffle  except  "  some  unimportant  scratches" 
on  the  shoulder.  The  bullet  was  found  to 
weigh  exactly  the  same  as  those  of  the  unex- 
ploded  cartridges  in  poor  Maidie's  prized  re 
volver,  and  though  Brick  would  gladly  have 
kept  the  floor  and  told  very  much  more,  the  prov 
ost-marshal  as  gladly  got  rid  of  him,  for,  despite 
the  unwillingness  of  the  medical  officers  at  the 
Cuartel  de  Meysic,  Connelly  had  been  trundled 
down  to  Ermita  in  a  springy  ambulance  and  was 
presently  awaiting  his  turn. 

The  moment  his  coming  was  announced,  Con 
nelly  was  ushered  in  and  Brick  shut  off  short. 

A  nurse  and  doctor  were  with  the  sturdy  little 
Irishman,  and  he  needed  but  brief  instruction  as  to 
what  was  wanted.  Taken  to  the  trestle  and  bidden 
to  look  upon  the  face  of  the  deceased  and  say,  if 
he  could,  who  it  was,  Connelly  looked  long  and 
earnestly,  and  then  turned  feebly  but  calmly  to  the 
attentive  array. 

"  If  it  wasn't  that  this  looks  much  thinner,"  said 
he,  "  I'd  say  it  was  a  man  who  'listed  with  our  de- 


28o  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

tachment  at  Denver  last  June,  about  the  first  week. 
The  name  was  Foster.  He  disappeared  some 
where  between  Sacramento  and  Oakland,  and  I 
never  saw  him  again." 

Questioned  as  to  whether  there  was  any  mark 
by  which  the  recruit  could  be  known,  Connelly 
said  that  he  was  present  when  Foster  was  physi 
cally  examined,  and  he  never  saw  a  man  with  a 
whiter  skin ;  there  wasn't  a  mark  on  him  anywhere 
then  that  he  could  remember.  Bidden  to  tell  what 
he  knew  of  Foster,  the  young  artilleryman  was  given 
a  seat,  and  somewhat  feebly  proceeded.  Foster 
was  bound  to  enlist,  he  said,  was  of  legal  age  and 
looked  it ;  gave  his  full  name,  his  home  and  busi 
ness  ;  said  he  owned  a  ranch  down  in  New  Mex 
ico  near  Fort  Averill ;  didn't  know  enough  to  go 
in  for  a  commission  and  was  determined  to  enlist 
and  serve  as  a  private  soldier  in  the  cavalry.  He 
had  good  clothes  and  things  that  he  put  in  a  trunk 
and  expressed  back  to  Averill,  keeping  only  a 
valise  full  of  underwear,  etc.,  but  that  was  burned 
up  on  the  car  afterwards.  Two  days  later,  before 
they  started  for  the  West,  a  man  who  said  his 
name  was  Murray  came  to  the  rendezvous  and 
asked  for  Foster,  who  was  then  being  drilled.  A 
detachment  was  to  start  the  next  day,  and  any- 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  281 

body  could  see  that  Foster  wasn't  glad  to  welcome 
Murray  by  any  means,  but  on  that  very  evening 
Murray  said  that  he  too  wished  to  enlist  and  go 
with  his  "  friend."  He  squeezed  through  the  phys 
ical  examination  somehow,  and  they  took  him 
along,  though  nobody  liked  his  looks. 

Then  Connelly  told  what  he  could  of  the  fire 
and  of  Foster's  subsequent  disappearance,  also  of 
Murray  and  Murray's  misconduct.  They  asked 
Connelly  about  Lieutenant  Stuyvesant,  and  here 
Connelly  waxed  almost  eloquent,  certainly  enthu 
siastic,  in  Stuyvesant's  praise.  Somebody  went  so 
far,  however,  as  to  ask  whether  he  had  ever  seen 
any  manifestation  of  ill-will  between  Stuyvesant 
and  Recruit  Foster,  whereat  Connelly  looked  as 
tonished,  seemed  to  forget  his  fever,  and  to  show 
something  akin  to  indignation. 

"  No,  indeed  !"  said  he.  There  was  nothing  but 
good-will  of  the  heartiest  kind  everywhere  through 
out  the  detachment  except  for  that  one  blackguard, 
Murray.  They  all  felt  most  grateful  to  the  lieu 
tenant,  and  so  far  as  he  knew  they'd  all  do  most 
anything  for  him,  all  except  Murray,  but  he  was  a 
tough,  he  was  a  biter,  and  here  the  sick  man  feebly 
uplifted  his  hand  and  pointed  to  the  bluish-purple 
marks  at  the  base  of  the  thumb. 


282  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

"  Murray  did  that,"  said  Connelly  simply.  "  He 
was  more  like  a  beast  than  a  man." 

But  the  examiners  did  not  seem  interested  in 
Murray.  General  Vinton,  who  had  again  entered 
and  was  a  close  listener,  and  was  observed  to  be 
studying  the  witness  closely,  presently  beckoned 
to  one  of  the  doctors  and  said  a  word  in  under 
tone  to  him.  The  medico  shook  his  head.  There 
was  a  lull  in  the  proceedings  a  moment.  Con 
nelly  was  too  sick  a  man  to  be  kept  there  long, 
and  his  doctor  plainly  showed  his  anxiety  to  get 
him  away.  The  crowd  too  wanted  him  to  go.  He 
had  told  nothing  especially  new  except  that  Mur 
ray  and  Foster  were  acquainted,  and  Murray  en 
listed  because  Foster  had. 

"  Everybody"  said  by  this  time  this  must  be 
Foster's  body.  What  "  everybody"  wanted  was 
to  get  Connelly  out  of  the  way  now,  then  perhaps 
— another  fever  patient  might  be  summoned,  for 
they  couldn't  expect  to  keep  those  remains  another 
day.  There  was  widespread,  if  unspoken,  hope 
among  the  score  of  correspondents  that  the  prov 
ost-marshal  would  feel  that  he  must  summon  Miss 
Ray. 

But  before  the  examiners  could  decide  there 
came  an  unexpected  scene.  Vinton  went  over, 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  283 

bent,  and  whispered  to  the  provost-marshal,  who 
looked  up,  nodded,  and  glanced  towards  the  wit 
ness,  sitting  flushed  and  heavy-eyed,  but  patient, 
across  the  room.  Vinton  was  plainly  asking  some 
thing,  and  to  the  manifest  displeasure  of  many  of 
the  crowd  the  little  Irishman  was  again  accosted. 

"  You  say  Murray  was  a  biter  and  bit  you  so 
that  the  marks  last  to  this  day.  Did  you  take 
note  of  any  peculiarity  in  his  teeth  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir.  One  of  'em  was  gone  near  the  front, 
right-hand  side,  next  to  the  big  yellow  eye- 
tooth." 

"  Would  that  make  a  peculiar  mark  on  human 
flesh  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Connelly,  holding  up  his 
hand  again  and  showing  the  scar,  now  nearly  five 
months  old. 

"  Steward,"  said  the  officer  placidly,  "  uncover 
the  shoulder  there  and  let  Connelly  look  at  the 
mark  Dr.  Brick  referred  to." 

Connelly  did.  He  studied  the  purplish  discolor- 
ations  in  the  milky  skin,  and  excitement,  not  alto 
gether  febrile,  suddenly  became  manifest  in  his  hot, 
flushed  face.  Then  he  held  forth  one  hand,  palm 
uppermost,  eagerly  compared  the  ugly  scars  at  the 
base  of  the  thumb  with  the  faint  marks  on  the 


284  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

broad,  smooth  shoulder,  and  turned  back  to  the 
darkened  room.     With  hand  uplifted  he  cried : 

"  Major," — and  now  he  was  trembling  with  min 
gled  weakness  and  eagerness, — "  I  knew  that  man 
Murray  was  following  this  young  feller  to  squeeze 
money  out  of  him,  and  when  he  couldn't  get  it  by 
threats,  he  tried  by  force.  He's  followed  him  clear 
to  Manila,  and  that's  his  mark  sure's  this  is! — 
sure's  there's  a  God  in  heaven  !" 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

THERE  came  a  time  of  something  more  than 
anxiety  and  worry  for  all  who  knew  Gerard  Stuy- 
vesant, — for  those  who  loved  Marion  Ray, — and5 
Sandy  was  a  sorrow-laden  man.  Vinton  could 
not  stand  between  his  favorite  aide  -de  -  camp 
and  the  accusation  laid  at  his  door.  Frank  and  his 
most  gifted  fellow-surgeons  were  powerless  to  pre 
vent  the  relapse  that  came  to  Marion  and  bore  her 
so  close  to  the  portals  of  the  great  beyond  that 
there  were  days  and  nights  when  the  blithe  spirit 
seemed  flitting  away  from  its  fragile  tenement,  and 
November  was  half  gone  before  the  crisis  was  so 
far  past  that  recovery  could  be  pronounced  only  a 
question  of  time.  Oh,  the  strain  of  those  long, 
long,  sleepless  days  of  watching,  waiting,  hoping, 
praying,  yet  days  wherein  the  watchers  could 
nurse  and  help  and  act.  Oh,  the  blackness,  the 
misery  of  the  nights  of  watching,  waiting  in  help 
lessness,  well-nigh  in  despair,  for  the  coming  of  the 
next  "  cable  !"  the  consciousness  of  utter  impotence 
to  help  or  to  do !  the  realization  that  a  priceless 
life  is  ebbing  away,  while  they  who  gave  it — they 

285 


286  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

to  whom  it  is  so  infinitely  precious — are  at  the  very 
opposite  ends  of  the  earth !  Oh,  the  tremulous 
opening  of  those  fateful  messages,  the  breathless 
reading  of  the  cipher,  the  awful  suspense  of  the 
search  through  Cable  Code  pages  that  dance  and 
swim  before  the  straining  eyes !  Oh,  the  meek 
acceptance  of  still  further  suspense !  the  almost 
piteous  thankfulness  that  all  is  not  yet  lost,  that 
hope  is  not  yet  abandoned !  Strong  men  break 
down  and  add  years  to  those  they  have  lived. 
Gentle  women  sway  and  totter  at  last  until  relief 
comes  to  them  through  God-given  tears. 

In  a  fever-stricken  camp  in  Southern  swamp 
lands  a  father  waked  night  after  night,  walking 
the  hospitals  where  his  brave  lads  lay  moaning, 
seeing  in  their  burning  misery,  hearing  in  their 
last  sigh,  the  sufferings  of  a  beloved  child.  By  the 
bedside  of  her  youngest,  her  baby  boy  as  she 
would  ever  call  the  lad,  who  lay  there  in  delirium, 
knelt  a  mother  who,  as  she  nursed  and  soothed 
this  one,  prayed  without  ceasing  for  that  other, 
that  beloved  daughter  for  whom  the  Death  Angel 
crouched  and  waited  under  the  tropic  skies  of  the 
far  Philippines.  Ah,  there  were  suffering  and  dis 
tress  attendant  on  that  strange,  eventful  epoch  in 
the  nation's  history  that  even  the  press  said  noth- 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  287 

ing  about,  and  that  those  who  knew  it  speak  of 
only  in  deep  solemnity  and  awe  to-day.  It  was 
mid-November  before  they  dared  to  hope.  It  was 
December  when  once  again  Maid  Marion  was  lifted 
to  her  lounging-chair  overlooking  the  Bagum- 
bayan,  and  little  by  little  began  picking  up  once 
more  the  threads  that  were  so  nearly  severed  for 
all  time,  and  as  health  and  strength  slowly  re 
turned,  hearing  the  tidings  of  the  busy,  bustling 
world  about  her. 

Others  too  had  known  anxiety  as  sore  as  that 
which  had  so  lined  the  face  of  Colonel  Ray  and 
trebled  the  silver  in  the  soft  hair  of  Marion,  his 
wife.  Well-nigh  distracted,  a  mother  sped  across 
the  continent  to  the  Pacific,  there  to  await  the 
coming  of  her  son's  remains. 

From  the  night  of  Walter  Foster's  disappear 
ance  at  Carquinez  no  word  of  his  existence  came 
to  give  her  hope,  no  trace  of  his  movements  until, 
late  in  August,  there  was  brought  to  her  the  cabled 
message : 

"  Alive,  well,  but  in  trouble.     Have  written." 

And  this  was  headed  Yokohama.  Not  until 
October  did  that  longed-for,  prayed-for  letter  come, 
— a  selfish  letter,  since  it  gave  no  really  adequate 
excuse  for  the  long  weeks  of  silence,  and  only  told 


288  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

that  the  boy  had  been  in  hiding,  almost  in  terror 
of  his  life.  While  still  dazed  by  the  shock  of  the 
fire  and  smarting  from  his  burns,  wrote  Walter,  he 
had  wandered  from  the  cars  at  Port  Costa.  He 
had  encountered  "  most  uncongenial  persons,"  he 
said,  among  the  recruits,  and  never  realizing  that 
it  was  desertion,  war-time  desertion  at  that,  had 
determined  to  get  back  to  Sacramento  and  join 
some  other  command.  Yes.  There  was  another 
reason,  but — one  "  mother  couldn't  appreciate." 
Unknown  to  all  but  one  of  his  comrades  on  the 
train,  he  had  abundant  money,  realized  from  the 
sale  of  horses  and  cattle  at  the  ranch.  It  was  in  a 
buckskin  belt  about  his  waist,  and  this  money 
bought  him  "  friends"  who  took  him  by  water  to 
Sacramento,  found  him  secret  lodgings,  procured 
suitable  clothing,  and  later  spirited  him  ofT  to  San 
Francisco. 

But  these  money-bought  friends  showed  the 
cloven  hoof,  threatened  to  give  him  over  to  the 
military  authorities  to  be  tried  for  his  life  unless 
he  would  pay  a  heavy  sum.  They  had  him  vir 
tually  a  prisoner.  He  could  only  stir  abroad  at 
night,  and  then  in  company  with  his  jailers. 

There  was  a  man,  he  wrote,  who  had  a  grudge 
against  him,  a  man  discharged  from  the  ranch,  who 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  289 

followed  him  to  Denver  and  enlisted  in  the  same 
party,  a  man  he  was  most  anxious  to  get  rid  of, 
and  the  first  thing  he  knew  that  fellow,  who,  he 
supposed,  had  gone  on  to  Manila,  turned  up  in 
disguise  and  joined  forces  with  his  tormentors. 
That  drove  him  to  desperation,  nerved  him  to  one 
sublime  effort,  and  one  night  he  broke  away  and 
ran.  He  was  fleet  of  foot,  they  were  heavy  with 
drink,  and  he  dodged  them  among  the  wharves  and 
piers,  took  refuge  on  a  coast  steamer,  and  found 
himself  two  days  later  at  Portland. 

Here  he  bethought  him  of  an  old  friend,  and 
succeeded  in  finding  a  man  he  well  knew  he  could 
trust,  despite  his  mother's  old  dislike  for  him,  a 
man  who  knew  his  whole  past,  of  his  desertion, 
of  his  danger, — a  man  who  was  himself  about 
enlisting  for  service  in  the  Philippines,  and  who 
persuaded  him  that  his  surest  way  to  win  exemp 
tion  from  punishment  was  to  hasten  after  the  de 
tachment,  beat  it,  if  possible,  to  Manila,  and  join  it 
there  at  his  own  expense. 

He  still  had  some  hundreds  left.  They  went  to 
San  Francisco,  where  Walter  took  steamer  at  once 
for  Honolulu  to  await  there  the  coming  of  the 
recruit  detachment.  The  infantry  finally  came,  his 
friend  with  them,  but  no  sign  of  more  cavalry.  To 

19 


2QO  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

Walter's  dismay  he  had  seen  among  the  passen 
gers  landed  from  the  Doric  the  disguised  rough 
whom,  as  Sackett,  he  had  so  unfavorably  known 
before,  who  as  Murray  had  followed  him  into  the 
army.  It  would  never  do  to  fall  into  his  clutches 
again  :  the  man  would  betray  him  instantly.  Wal 
ter  kept  in  hiding  until  he  heard  that  Sackett  was 
accused  of  stabbing  a  staff  officer  of  General  Vinton 
and  had  fled  the  island. 

Later,  when  the  next  troop-ship  came,  bringing 
his  friend  with  it,  he  again  took  counsel.  As  the  lad 
fully  admitted,  his  friend  was  the  same  old  chum 
of  Freiburg  days — the  friend  to  whom  his  parents 
had  so  much  objected.  The  fortunes  of  war  had 
thrown  them  together,  Willard  as  impecunious  as 
ever,  and  the  Damon  and  Pythias,  the  Orestes  and 
Pylades,  the  two  Ajaxes  of  the  old  days  were  in 
close  and  intimate  touch  once  more,  Damon,  as 
of  old,  the  banker  for  the  twain.  The  troop-ships 
were  to  proceed  as  soon  as  coaled.  There  were 
reasons  now  why  Walter  wished  to  stay  in  Hono 
lulu,  but  Willard  urged  his  moving  at  once  on  to 
Hong  Kong  and  there  awaiting  the  result  of  his 
negotiations  at  Manila.  At  Hong  Kong  it  was  his 
hope  to  receive  the  word  "  Come  over.  All  is 
well,"  andr  finally,  as  his  funds  would  soon  run  out, 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  291 

he  closed  his  letter  with  the  request  that  his  mother 
cable  him  five  hundred  dollars  through  the  Hong 
Kong  and  Shanghai  Bank. 

The  money  she  cabled  at  once,  then  in  dread  she 
had  wired  Colonel  Martindale,  who  was  gadding 
about  with  old  army  chums  when  most  she  needed 
him  at  home,  and  that  gentleman,  with  a  sigh, 
again  went  sisterward,  saying  he  knew  the  boy 
was  sure  to  turn  up  to  torment  him,  and  wondering 
what  on  earth  young  Hopeful  had  done  now.  He 
looked  grave  enough  when  he  read  the  letter,  asked 
for  time  to  communicate  confidentially  with  a  chum 
at  Washington,  and  was  awaiting  reply  when  all  on 
a  sudden  the  papers  came  out  with  this  startling 
despatch  telling  of  the  murder  of  Private  Walter 
Foster  while  on  his  post  as  sentry  at  Manila,  and 
then  came  weeks  of  woe. 

Despite  Drayton's  cable  from  Manila  that  the 
identification  of  the  remains  was  not  conclusive  to 
him,  at  least,  Mrs.  Foster  was  convinced  that  the 
murdered  lad  was  her  only  boy,  and  all  because  of 
that  heartless  flirt,  that  designing — that  demoniac 
army  girl  who  had  bewitched  him  and  then  brought 
his  blood  upon  her  own  head. 

"  If  it  isn't  Walter  who  lies  there  slain  by  assas 
sin  rival,  the  innocent  victim  of  that  creature's 


292  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

hideous  vanity,  would  I  not  have  heard  from  him  ? 
Do  you  suppose  my  blessed  boy  would  not  in 
stantly  have  cabled  to  tell  me  he  was  alive  if  he 
wasn't  dead  ?"  And,  indeed,  that  was  a  hard  ques 
tion  to  answer. 

And  so  the  remains  of  Private  Willard  Benton, 
that  had  been  viewed  by  many  a  genuinely  sorrow 
ing  comrade  and  stowed  away  with  solemn  military 
honors  in  a  vault  at  Paco  Cemetery,  were  sealed 
up  as  best  they  could  do  it  at  Manila,  and,  though 
unconvinced  as  to  their  identity  despite  the  con 
victions  of  others  in  authority,  the  commanding 
general  yielded  to  cables  from  the  War  Depart 
ment  and  ordered  their  shipment  to  San  Francisco. 
They  were  out  of  sight  of  all  signals  from  Cor- 
regidor  when  Martindale's  cable  came  suggesting 
search  for  Private  Benton  Willard. 

Zenobia  Perkins  sniffed  contemptuously  and 
scoffed  malignantly  when  told  that  the  doubting 
Thomases  were  gaining  ground  and  numbers,  that 
though  Mr.  Stuyvesant  might  be  brought  to  trial 
for  killing  a  man,  it  would  not  be  for  killing  Foster 
until  more  was  ascertained  regarding  the  actual 
victim.  Private  Connelly,  recovered  from  his  fever, 
was  forever  hunting  up  Farnham,  the  brakeman, 
and  devising  schemes  for  the  capture  of  that 


A    STORY   OF   MANILA  293 

blackguard  Murray.  Day  and  night,  he  main 
tained  that  Murray  was  the  man  who  had  accosted 
Clarke  and  Hunter  at  the  battery,  that  it  was 
probably  he  who,  with  his  pals,  had  waylaid  and 
robbed  the  lone  recruit  returning  from  his  quest 
in  East  Paco,  that  it  was  he  who  must  have  strug 
gled  with  him  again  before  firing  the  fatal  shot ; 
but  not  a  trace  of  Murray  or  his  sailor  mates 
could  the  secret  service  agents  find,  and  matters 
were  in  this  most  unsatisfactory  state  when  at  the 
end  of  November  came  the  Queen  of  the  Fleet, 
despatched  several  weeks  before  to  fetch  along  the 
troops  "  sidetracked"  at  Honolulu,  just  as  the  com 
manding  general  and  his  chief  surgeon  were  in 
consultation  as  to  what  on  earth  to  do  with  Ze- 
nobia  Perkins — the  woman  had  become  a  public 
nuisance. 

It  seems  that  the  Patriotic  Daughters  of  America 
were  now  out  of  patience  and  the  vice-president 
out  of  funds.  It  seemed  that  her  brief  ascendancy 
had  carried  the  lady  to  such  an  altitude  as  to  dizzy 
her  brain  and  rob  her  of  all  sense  of  proportion. 
It  seems  that  the  surgeons  in  charge  of  three 
hospitals  had  complained  of  her  meddling,  that 
colonels  of  several  regiments  had  discovered  her 
to  be  the  author  of  letters  to  the  home  papers 


294  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

setting  forth  that  neglect,  abuse,  and  starvation 
were  driving  their  men  to  desertion  or  the  grave. 
It  seems  that  the  Red  Cross  had  protested  against 
her  as  the  originator  of  malignant  stories  at  their 
expense,  and  it  was  evidently  high  time  to  get  rid 
of  her,  yet  how  could  they  if  that  case  was  to  be 
tried  ?  Zenobia  Perkins  knew  they  could  not  and 
conducted  herself  accordingly.  She  came  this 
day  to  the  Ayuntamiento  to  demand  pay  for  what 
she  termed  her  long  detention  at  Manila. 

"  You  compel  me  to  remain  against  my  will 
because  I'm  an  indispensable  witness,"  said  she  to 
the  saturnine  adjutant-general,  beyond  whom  she 
never  now  succeeded  in  passing.  She  was  volubly 
berating  him,  to  his  grim  amusement,  when  the 
lattice  doors  from  the  corridor  swung  open  and 
two  officers  entered. 

For  nearly  two  minutes  they  stood  waiting  for  a 
break  in  her  tempestuous  flow  of  words,  but  as 
none  came,  the  senior  impatiently  stepped  forward 
and  the  adjutant-general,  looking  up,  sprang  from 
his  chair  just  as  the  chief  himself  came  hurrying  out 
from  the  sanctum  sanctorum  and  greeted  the  new 
comers  with  cordially  clasping  hands.  The  lady 
too  had  risen.  This  was  another  of  those  stuck- 
up  star-wearers  who  at  San  Francisco  as  much  as 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  295 

told  her  she  was  a  nuisance,  and  who  wouldn't 
send  her  by  transport  to  Manila.  Yet  here  she 
was  in  spite  of  them  all,  and  the  most  important 
woman  on  the  island  !  Zenobia's  face  was  flushed 
with  triumph  that  the  star-wearer  should  be  made 
to  feel  and  see  before  she  would  consent  to  leave 
the  room. 

"  Well,  I  shall  have  to  interrupt  you  gentlemen," 
said  she,  "  for  my  business  won't  keep  if  you  pro 
pose  to  keep  me.  I  want  to  know  right  here  and 
now,  General  Drayton,  whether  I'm  to  get  my  pay 
or  not ;  if  not,  I  don't  propose  to  wait  another  day 
in  Manila,  and  you  can  get  out  of  the  scrape  the  best 
way  you  know  how.  No  one  here  but  me  could 
swear  that  young  man  Foster  was  dead,  and  you 
know  it." 

"  You've  sworn  to  what  isn't  so,  madame,"  in 
terposed  the  new  arrival  placidly.  "  Here's  that 
young  man  Foster !"  and  as  he  spoke  the  lattice 
doors  again  swung  open,  and,  very  pale,  a  tall 
youth  in  civilian  dress  was  ushered  in,  at  sight  of 
whom  Major  Farquhar  fairly  shouted. 

"  How'd  I  get  him  ?"  said  the  new-comer  five 
minutes  later.  "  Found  him  aboard  the  Coptic 
when  she  met  us  as  we  were  pulling  out  from 


296  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

Honolulu.  He  was  going  back  to  the  States. 
Left  Hong  Kong  before  the  story  was  published. 
Didn't  want  to  come,  of  course,  but  had  to." 

"  Wasn't  there  time  to  write  his  mother  ?  They 
surely  would  have  cabled,  and  the  Coptic  must 
have  got  into  San  Francisco  a  week  ago." 

"  Certainly !  Letter  was  sent  right  on  by  the 
steamer,  addressed  to  Cincinnati." 

"O  Lord!"  said  Drayton.  "And  she  was  at 
'Frisco  all  the  time.  Colonel,"  he  added  to  his 
chief-of-staff,  "  what's  the  first  transport  home  ?" 

"  Zealandia,  sir ;  to-morrow." 

"  Sorry  for  the  Zealandia,  but  Zenobia  must  go 
with  her." 


CHAPTER   XX. 

OF  course  we  had  not  heard  the  last  of  her. 
Honolulu  correspondents  of  the  press  had  little  to 
write  of  in  those  days,  but  made  their  little  long, 
and  Zenobia's  stories  were  the  biggest  things  yet 
brought  from  Manila.  Those  stories  were  seven 
days  getting  from  Honolulu  to  San  Francisco, 
which  was  less  than  half  the  time  it  took  their 
author  to  bring  them  to  listening  ears.  Anybody 
aboard  the  Zealandia  could  have  told  the  scribes 
the  lady  was  a  fabricator  of  the  first  magnitude, 
but  what  live  correspondent  wants  to  have  a  good 
story  spoiled?  In  just  twenty-seven  days  from 
that  on  which  Zenobia  bade  farewell  to  Manila 
her  winged  words  were  flashed  all  over  the  States, 
and  by  thousands  were  the  stories  swallowed  that 
death,  disease,  pestilence  and  famine,  bribery  and 
corruption,  vice  and  debauchery,  desertion  and  de 
moralization  ran  riot  in  the  army  at  Manila,  all 
due  to  the  incapacity,  if  not  actual  complicity,  of 
officers  in  high  position.  But  mercifully  were 
they  spared  the  knowledge  of  these  astonishing 
facts  until  the  papers  themselves  began  to  reach 

297 


298  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

the  Eighth  Corps  some  ten  weeks  after  Zenobia 
had  left  it  to  its  fate,  and  by  that  time  every  fellow 
had  his  hands  full,  for  the  long-looked-for  out 
break  had  come  at  last,  and  the  long,  thin  Yankee 
fighting  line  was  too  busy  making  history  to  waste 
ink  or  temper  in  denying  yarns  that,  after  all,  were 
soon  forgotten. 

Then,  too,  we  had  been  hearing  stories  that 
could  not  be  denied  right  there  in  the  southern 
suburbs,  and  having  excitement  that  needed  no 
Zenobia  to  enhance  it.  To  begin  with,  Walter 
Foster's  tale  was  of  itself  of  vivid  interest,  and, 
though  only  the  general  and  Farquhar  and  Ray 
actually  heard  it,  and  only  two  or  possibly  three 
staff  officers  were  supposed  to  see  it  after  it  had 
been  reduced  to  writing,  every  steamer  and  trans 
port  now  was  bringing  officers'  families,  and  men 
must  tell  their  wives  something  once  in  a  while, 
otherwise  they  might  never  know  what  is  going 
on  and  so  will  believe  all  manner  of  things  that 
are  not. 

Walter  Foster's  mother  learned  by  cable  that  the 
remains  she  awaited,  and  that  reached  port  almost 
the  day  she  got  the  despatch,  were  not  those  of  her 
only  son,  but  of  one  who  had  practically  died  for 
him.  And  even  in  the  joy  of  that  supreme  mo- 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  299 

ment  the  woman  in  her  turned,  after  all,  in  pity  to 
weep  for  the  motherless  lad  who  had  been  her 
boy's  warmest  friend  in  his  hours  of  doubt  and 
darkness  and  despair. 

A  weak  vessel  was  "  Wally,"  as  Farquhar  had 
intimated,  and  so  easily  cowed  and  daunted  that 
in  the  dread,  of  the  punishment  accorded  the  de 
serter  he  had  skulked  in  disguise  at  Hong  Kong, 
leaving  all  the  burden  of  scouting,  pleading,  and 
planning  for  him  to  Willard,  his  old-time  chum, 
who  had  even  less  knowledge  and  experience  of 
army  official  life  than  himself.  Willard's  early 
letters  to  Hong  Kong  gave  Foster  little  hope,  for 
at  first  the  only  people  the  recruit  could  "  sound" 
were  private  soldiers  like  himself.  Then  Foster 
read  of  the  arrival  of  the  Sacramento  at  Manila, 
of  the  presence  there  of  Maidie  Ray,  and  then  he 
wrote  urging  his  quondam  chum  to  endeavor  to 
see  her,  to  tell  her  of  his  desperate  straits,  to  im 
plore  her  to  exert  influence  to  get  him  pardoned, 
and,  in  order  that  she  might  know  that  his  envoy 
was  duly  accredited,  he  sent  Willard  his  chief 
treasure,  that  little  carte-de-visite,  together  with  a 
few  imploring  lines. 

Then  not  a  word  came  from  Willard  for  three 
mortal  weeks,  but  Foster's  daily  visits  to  the  bank 


300  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

were  at  last  rewarded  by  a  despatch  from  home 
bidding  him  return  at  once  by  first  steamer,  send 
ing  him  abundant  means,  and  assuring  him  all 
would  be  well. 

And  when  the  news  of  his  own  murder  was 
published  in  the  Hong  Kong  papers,  without  the 
faintest  intimation  to  the  officials  of  the  bank  as  to 
his  intentions,  he  was  homeward  bound,  and  never 
heard  a  word  of  it  all  until  recognized  by  an  offi 
cer  aboard  the  Queen  as  the  Coptic  floated  into 
Honolulu  Harbor.  There  he  was  arrested  and 
turned  back. 

Among  "  Billy  Benton's"  few  effects  no  letters, 
no  such  picture,  had  been  found,  nothing,  in  fact, 
to  connect  him  with  Foster.  Colonel  Brent  knew 
what  had  become  of  the  carte -de -visite,  but — how 
happened  it  in  other  hands  than  those  of  Benton  ? 
That  too  was  not  long  to  be  a  mystery. 

One  day  in  late  December  a  forlorn-looking 
fellow  begged  a  drink  of  the  bartender  at  the  Al- 
hambra  on  the  Escolta — said  he  was  out  of  money, 
deserted  by  his  friends,  and  took  occasion  to  re 
mind  the  dispenser  of  fluid  refreshment  that  a  few 
weeks  ago  when  he  had  funds  and  friends  both  he 
had  spent  many  a  dollar  there.  The  bartender 
waved  him  away. 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  301 

"  Awe,  give  the  feller  a  drink,"  said  boys  in  blue, 
in  the  largeness  of  their  nature  and  the  language 
of  the  ranks.  "  What'll  you  take,  Johnny  ?  Have 
one  with  us,"  and  one  of  the  managers  hastened 
over  and  whispered  to  some  of  the  flannel-shirted 
squad,  but  to  no  purpose. 

The  "boys"  were  bent  on  benevolence,  and 
"beat"  though  he  might  be,  the  gaunt  stranger 
was  made  welcome,  shared  their  meat  and  drink, 
and,  growing  speedily  confidential  in  his  cups,  told 
them  that  he  could  tell  a  tale  some  folks  would 
pay  well  to  hear,  and  then  proceeded  to  stiffen  out 
in  a  fit. 

This  brought  to  mind  the  event  on  the  Bagum- 
bayan,  and  somebody  said  it  was  "  the  same  feller 
if  not  the  same  fit,"  and  it  wouldn't  do  to  leave 
him  there.  They  took  him  along  in  their  cab  and 
across  to  their  barracks  by  the  Puente  Colgante, 
and  a  doctor  ministered  to  him,  for  it  was  plain  the 
poor  fellow  was  in  sore  plight,  and  a  few  days  later 
a  story  worth  the  telling  was  going  the  rounds. 
The  good  chaplain  of  the  Californians  had  heard 
his  partial  confession  and  urged  him  to  tell  the 
whole  truth,  and  that  night  the  last  vestige  of  the 
crumbling  case  against  Gerard  Stuyvesant  came 
tumbling  to  earth,  and  Connelly,  from  the  Cuartel 


302  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

de  Meisic,  nearly  ran  his  sturdy  legs  off  to  find 
Farnham  and  tell  him  the  tale. 

"  My  real  name,"  said  the  broken  man,  "  is  of  no 
consequence  to  anybody.  I  soldiered  nearly  ten 
years  ago  in  the  Seventh  Cavalry,  but  that  fight  at 
Wounded  Knee  was  too  much  for  my  nerve,  and 
the  boys  made  life  a  burden  to  me  afterwards.  I 
1  took  on'  in  another  regiment  after  I  skipped  from 
the  Seventh,  but  luck  was  against  me.  We  were 
sent  to  Fort  Meade,  and  there  was  a  gambler  in 
Deadwood,  Sackett  by  name,  who  had  been  a  few 
months  in  the  Seventh,  but  got  bob-tailed  out  for 
some  dirty  work,  and  he  knew  me  at  once  and 
swore  he'd  give  me  away  if  I  didn't  steer  fellows 
up  against  his  game  after  pay-day.  I  had  to  do  it, 
but  Captain  Ray  got  onto  it  all  and  broke  up  the 
scheme  and  ran  Sackett  ofT  the  reservation,  and 
then  he  blew  on  me  and  I  had  to  quit  again.  He 
shot  a  man  over  cards,  for  he  was  a  devil  when  in 
drink,  and  had  to  clear  out,  and  we  met  again  in 
Denver.  '  Each  could  give  the  other  away  by  that 
time,'  said  he,  and  so  we  joined  partnership." 

The  rest  was  soon  told.  Sackett  got  a  job  on 
young  Foster's  ranch  and  fell  into  some  further 
trouble.  But  when  the  war  came  all  of  them  were 
enlisted,  Foster  and  Sackett  in  the  regulars  and  he 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  303 

in  the  First  Colorado,  but  they  discharged  him  at 
Manila  because  he  had  fits,  and  that  gave  him  a 
good  deal  of  money  for  a  few  days,  travel  pay 
home,  and  all  that.  Then  who  should  turn  up  but 
Sackett  with  "  money  to  burn"  and  a  scheme  to 
make  more.  They  hired  a  room  in  Ermita,  and 
next  thing  he  knew  Sackett  and  some  sailor  men 
held  up  and  robbed  a  soldier,  and  Sackett  was  in  a 
tearing  rage  because  no  money-belt  was  found  on 
him.  They  only  got  some  letters,  that  little  photo 
graph,  and  perhaps  forty  dollars  "  Mex."  The 
photograph  he  recognized  at  once, — his  former 
captain's  daughter, — and  he  begged  for  it  and  kept 
it  about  him  until  one  evening  he  was  taken  with 
another  fit,  and  when  he  came  to  the  picture  was  gone. 
That  night  he  found  Sackett  nearly  crazy  drunk 
at  their  lodgings  in  Ermita.  They  had  a  Filipino 
boy  to  wait  on  them  then,  and  Sackett  had  told 
the  boy  where  he  could  find  money  and  jewelry 
while  the  family  were  at  dinner  around  at  Colonel 
Brent's.  The  boy  was  willing  enough ;  he  was  an 
expert.  But  he  came  back  scared  through ;  said 
that  the  soldiers  were  close  after  him.  He  had 
some  jewelry  and  a  pretty  revolver.  Sackett  told 
him  to  keep  the  jewelry,  but  took  the  watch  and 
pistol,  and  that  night  the  sentries  and  patrols  were 


304  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

searching  everywhere,  and  Sackett  and  the  sailors 
said  they  must  get  away  somehow.  They  drank 
some  more,  and  finally  thought  they  had  a  good 
chance  just  after  the  patrol  left,  and  the  sentry 
was  talking  to  an  officer  on  the  Calle  Real. 

They  sneaked  downstairs  and  out  into  the  Faura, 
and  there  Sackett  ran  right  into  the  soldier's  arms. 
There  was  a  short,  terrible  battle,  the  soldier 
against  Sackett  and  his  sailor  friend.  The  sailor 
got  the  sentry's  gun  away,  and  Sackett  and  he 
wrestled  as  far  as  the  corner,  when  there  was  a 
shot ;  the  soldier  dropped  all  in  a  heap  and  Sackett 
and  the  sailor  ran  for  their  lives  around  the  corner, 
— the  last  he  had  ever  seen  or  heard  of  them  up  to 
this  moment. 

So  that  was  how  poor  Maidie's  pistol  happened 
to  be  picked  up  on  the  Calle  Real  and  why  one  or 
two  assertive  officers  lately  connected  with  the 
provost-marshal's  and  secret-service  department 
concluded  that  it  might  be  well  for  them  to  try 
regimental  duty  awhile.  That  was  how  it  hap 
pened,  too,  that  Lieutenant  Stuyvesant  was  pre 
vailed  on  to  take  a  short  leave  and  run  over  to 
Hong  Kong.  But  he  came  back  in  a  hurry,  for 
there  was  need  of  every  man  and  trouble  imminent 
"  at  the  front." 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  305 

The  dawn  of  that  memorable  February  day  had 
come  that  saw  Manila  girdled  by  the  flame  of  forty 
thousand  rifles  and  shrouded  in  the  smoke  that 
drifted  from  the  burning  roofs  of  outlying  villages 
from  whose  walls,  windows,  and  church  towers  the 
insurgent  islanders  had  poured  their  pitiless  fire 
upon  the  ranks  of  the  American  soldiery. 

In  front  of  a  stone-walled  enclosure  bordering 
the  principal  street  in  an  eastward  suburb  two  or 
three  officers  were  in  earnest  consultation.  From 
the  ambulance  close  at  hand  the  attendants  were 
carefully  lifting  some  sorely  wounded  men.  Up 
the  street  farther  east  several  little  parties  coming 
slowly,  haltingly  from  the  front,  told  that  the  in 
cessant  crash  and  rattle  of  musketry  in  that  direc 
tion  was  no  mere  feu-de-joie,  while  every  now  and 
then  the  angry  spat  of  the  steel-clad  Mauser  on 
the  stony  road,  the  whiz  and  whirr  about  the  ears 
of  the  few  who  for  duty's  sake  or  that  of  example 
held  their  ground  in  the  highway,  gave  evidence 
that  the  Tagal  marksmen  had  their  eyes  on  every 
visible  group  of  Americans. 

In  the  side  streets  at  right  angles  to  the  main 
thoroughfare  reserve  battalions  were  crouching, 
sheltered  from  the  leaden  storm,  and  awaiting  the 
longed-for  order  to  advance  and  sweep  the  field  at 

20 


306  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

the  front.  From  the  grim,  gray  walls  of  the  great 
church  and  convent,  which  for  weeks  had  been 
strictly  guarded  by  order  of  the  American  generals 
against  all  possible  intrusion  or  desecration  on  part 
of  their  men,  came  frequent  flash  and  report  and 
deadly  missile  aimed  at  the  helpless  wounded,  the 
hurrying  ambulances,  even  at  a  symbol  as  sacred 
as  that  which  towered  above  its  altars — the  blood- 
red  cross  of  Geneva. 

It  was  the  Tagal's  return  for  the  honor  and  care 
and  consideration  shown  the  Church  of  Rome.  As 
another  ambulance  came  swiftly  to  the  spot,  its 
driver  swayed,  clasped  his  hands  upon  his  breast, 
and,  with  the  blood  gushing  from  his  mouth,  top 
pled  forward  into  the  arms  of  the  hospital  attend 
ants.  It  was  more  than  flesh  and  blood  or  the 
brigade  commander  could  stand. 

"  Burn  that  church  !"  was  the  stern  order  as  the 
general  spurred  on  to  the  front,  and  a  score  of 
soldiers,  leaping  from  behind  the  stone  walls, 
dashed  at  the  barricaded  doors.  A  young  staff 
officer,  galloping  down  the  road,  reined  in  at  sight 
of  the  little  party  and  whirled  about  by  the  gen 
eral's  side. 

"  It's  perfectly  true,  sir,"  said  he.  "  Right  across 
the  bridge  in  front  of  the  block-house  you  can 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  307 

hear  him  plainly.  It's  a  white  man  giving  orders 
to  the  Filipinos."  The  general  nodded. 

"  We'll  get  him  presently.  Do  they  understand 
the  orders  on  the  left  ?" 

"  Everywhere,  sir.  All  are  ready  and  eager," 
and  even  the  native  pony  ridden  by  the  aide  seemed 
quivering  with  excitement  as,  horse  and  rider,  they 
fell  back  and  joined  the  two  officers  following  their 
chief. 

"  Hot  in  front,  Stuyvie  ?"  queried  the  first  in 
undertone,  as  a  Mauser  zipped  between  their  heads 
to  the  detriment  of  confidential  talk,  and  a  great 
burst  of  cheers  broke  from  the  blue  line  crouching 
just  ahead  across  the  open  field.  "  Why,  d — n  it, 
man,  you're  hit  now  !" 

"  Hush !"  answered  Stuyvesant  imploringly,  as 
he  pressed  a  gauntleted  hand  to  his  side.  "  Don't 
let  the  general  know.  I  want  to  join  Vinton  in  a 
moment.  It's  only  a  tear  along  the  skin."  But 
blood  was  soaking  through  the  serge  of  his  blue 
sack-coat  and  streaking  the  loose  folds  of  his 
riding-breeches,  and  the  bright  color  in  his  clear 
skin  was  giving  way  to  pallor. 

"  Tear,  indeed  !  Here  !  Quick,  orderly  !  Help 
me  thereon  the  other  side!"  and  the  captain  sprang 
from  saddle.  A  soldier  leaped  forward,  turning 


3o8  RAY'S    DAUGHTER 

loose  his  pony,  and  as  the  general,  with  only  one 
aide  and  orderly,  rode  on  into  the  smoke-cloud 
overhanging  the  line,  Gerard  Stuyvesant,  fainting, 
slid  forward  into  the  arms  of  his  faithful  friends. 

A  few  hours  later,  "  lined  up"  along  the  river- 
bank,  a  great  regiment  from  the  far  West,  panting 
and  exultant,  stood  resting  on  its  arms  and  look 
ing  back  over  the  field  traversed  in  its  first  grand 
charge.  Here,  there,  everywhere  it  was  strewn 
with  insurgent  dead  and  sorely  wounded.  Here, 
there,  and  everywhere  men  in  American  blue  were 
flitting  about  from  group  to  group,  tendering 
canteens  of  cold  water  to  the  wounded,  friend  and 
enemy  alike. 

Far  back  towards  the  dusty  highway  where  the 
ambulances  were  hurrying,  and  close  to  the  abut 
ments  of  a  massive  stone  bridge  that  crossed  a 
tributary  of  the  Pasig,  three  officers,  a  surgeon, 
and  half-a-dozen  soldiers  were  grouped  about  a 
prostrate  form  in  the  pale  blue  uniform,  with  the 
gold  embroidery  and  broad  stripes  of  a  Filipino 
captain,  but  the  face  was  ghastly  white,  the  lan 
guage  ghastly  Anglo-Saxon. 

With  the  blood  welling  from  a  shothole  in  his 
broad,  burly  chest  and  the  seal  of  death  already 
settling  on  his  ashen  brow,  he  was  scowling  up 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  309 

into  the  half  -  compassionate,  half -contemptuous 
faces  about  him.  Here  lay  the  "  Capitan  Ameri 
cano"  of  whom  the  Tagal  soldiers  had  been  boast 
ing  for  a  month — a  deserter  from  the  army  of  the 
United  States,  a  commissioned  officer  in  the  ranks 
of  Aguinaldo,  shot  to  death  in  his  first  battle  in 
sight  of  some  who  had  seen  and  known  him  "  in 
the  blue." 

Lieutenant  Stuyvesant,  revived  by  a  long  pull  at 
the  doctor's  flask,  his  bleeding  stanched,  had  again 
pressed  forward  to  take  his  part  in  the  fight,  but 
now  lay  back  in  the  low  Victoria  that  the  men  had 
run  forward  from  the  village,  and  looked  down 
upon  the  man  who  in  bitter  wrath  and  hatred  had 
vowed  long  months  before  to  have  his  heart's 
blood, — the  man  who  had  so  nearly  done  him  to 
death  in  Honolulu.  Even  now  in  Sackett's  dying 
eyes  something  of  the  same  brutal  rage  mingled 
with  the  instant  gleam  of  recognition  that  for  a 
moment  flashed  across  his  distorted  features.  It 
seemed  retribution  indeed  that  his  last  conscious 
glance  should  fall  upon  the  living  face  of  the  man 
to  whom  he  owed  his  rescue  from  a  fearful  death 
that  night  in  far-away  Nevada. 

But,  badly  as  he  was  whipped  that  brilliant 
Sunday,  "  Johnny  Filipino"  had  the  wit  to  note  that 


310  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

Uncle  Sam  had  hardly  a  handful  of  cavalry  and 
nowhere  near  enough  men  to  follow  up  the  ad 
vantages,  and  hence  the  long  campaign  of  minor 
affairs  that  had  £o  follow.  In  that  campaign  Sandy 
Ray  was  far  too  busy  at  the  front  to  know  very 
much  of  what  was  going  on  at  the  rear  in  Manila. 
He  listened  with  little  sympathy  to  Farquhar's 
brief  disposition  of  poor  Foster's  case.  "  They 
could  remove  the  desertion  and  give  him  a  com 
mission,  but  they  couldn't  make  Wally  a  soldier. 
He  went  home  when  the  fighting  had  hardly 
begun."  Somebody  was  mean  enough  to  say  if 
he  hadn't  his  mother  would  have  come  for  him. 

There  was  no  question  as  to  the  identity  of  the 
soldier  who  died  in  Filipino  uniform.  Not  only 
did  Stuyvesant  recognize  him,  but  so  did  Ray  and 
Trooper  Mellen,  and  Connelly,  fetched  over  from 
the  north  side  to  make  assurance  doubly  sure.  It 
was  Sackett-Murray,  gambler,  horse-thief,  house- 
robber,  deserter,  biter,  murderer,  and  double-dyed 
traitor.  He  had  fled  to  the  insurgents  in  dread 
of  discovery  and  death  at  the  hands  of  Benton's 
comrades. 

And  perhaps  it  was  just  as  well.  Foster  knew 
of  his  hapless  end  before  he  took  steamer  home 
ward  ;  knew,  too,  of  Stuyvesant's  wound,  and — 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  311 

possibly  it  had  something  to  do  with  his  departure 
—  of  the  disposition  made  of  that  fortunately 
wounded  officer.  Miss  Ray,  it  seems,  was  regu 
larly  on  duty  now,  with  other  Red  Cross  nurses, 
and  Stuyvesant  went  to  the  "  First  Reserve"  and 
stayed  there  a  whole  week,  and  even  Dr.  Wells 
came  and  smiled  on  him,  and  Miss  Porter  beamed, 
and  still  he  was  not  happy — for  Maidie  came  not. 
She  was  busy  as  she  could  be  at  the  farther  end  of 
the  other  wards. 

And  so  Stuyvesant  grew  impatient  of  nursing, 
declared  he  was  well,  and  still  was  far  from  happy, 
for  at  that  time  Foster  was  still  hovering  about 
the  premises,  and  Stuyvesant  could  see  only  one 
possible  explanation  for  that.  They  moved  him 
back  to  his  breezy  quarters  at  Malate.  But  pres 
ently  a  trap  was  sprung,  mainly  through  Mrs. 
Brent's  complicity,  for  once  or  twice  a  week  it  was 
Maidie's  custom  to  go  to  her  old  friend's  roof  for 
rest  and  tea.  And  one  evening,  seems  to  me  it 
was  Valentine's  Day,  just  before  sunset,  they  were 
in  the  veranda, — the  colonel  and  his  kindly  wife, 
— while  Maid  Marion  the  Second  was  in  her  own 
room  donning  a  dainty  gown  for  change  from  the 
Red  Cross  uniform,  when  a  carnage  whirled  up  to 
the  entrance  underneath,  and  Mrs.  Brent,  leaning 


3i2  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

over  the  rail,  smiled  on  its  sole  occupant  and 
nodded  reassuringly. 

Stuyvesant  came  up  slowly,  looking  not  too  ro 
bust,  and  said  it  was  awfully  good  of  Mrs.  Brent 
to  take  pity  on  his  loneliness  and  have  him  round 
to  tea.  Other  nice  women,  younger,  more  attrac 
tive  personally  than  Mrs.  Brent,  had  likewise 
bidden  him  to  tea  just  so  soon  as  he  felt  able,  but 
Stuyvesant  swore  to  himself  he  couldn't  be  able 
and  wouldn't  if  he  could.  Yet  when  Mrs.  Brent 
said  "  Come,"  he  went,  though  never  hoping  to  see 
Marion,  whom  he  believed  to  be  engrossed  in 
duties  at  the  First  Reserve,  and  on  the  verge  of 
announcement  of  her  engagement  to  "  that  young 
man  Foster." 

Presently  Brent  said  if  Stuyvesant  had  no  ob 
jection  he'd  take  his  trap  and  drive  over  Intra 
muros  and  get  the  news  from  MacArthur's  front, — 
for  Mac  was  hammering  at  the  insurgent  lines 
about  Caloocan, — and  Stuyvesant  had  no  objection 
whatever.  Whereupon  Mrs.  Brent  took  occasion  to 
say  in  the  most  casual  way  in  the  world : 

"  Oh,  you  might  send  a  line  to  Colonel  Martin- 
dale,  dear.  You  know  Mr.  Foster  goes  home  by 
the  Sonoma — oh,  hadn't  you  heard  of  it,  Mr.  Stuy 
vesant?  Oh,  dear,  yes.  He's  been  ready  to  go 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  313 

ever  since  the  fighting  began,  but  there  was  no 
boat." 

And  then  she  too  left  Stuyvesant, — left  him  with 
the  New  York  Moon  bottom  topmost  in  his  hand 
and  a  sensation  as  of  wheels  in  his  head.  She 
proceeded,  furthermore,  to  order  tea  on  the  back 
gallery  and  Maidie  to  the  front.  But  tea  was 
ready  long  before  Maidie. 

Far  out  at  the  lines  of  San  Pedro  Macati  Dyer's 
guns  had  sighted  swarms  of  rebels  up  the  Pasig, 
and  with  placid  and  methodical  precision  Avere 
sending  shrapnel  in  that  direction  and  dull,  boom 
ing  concussions  in  the  other.  An  engagement  of 
some  kind  was  on  at  San  Pedro,  and  Stuyvesant 
twitched  with  nervous  longing  to  get  there,  despite 
the  doctors,  and  sat  wondering  was  another  en 
gagement  off  at  Manila.  Just  what  to  do  he  had 
not  decided.  The  Moon  and  his  senses  were  still 
upside-down  when  Sing  came  in  with  the  trans 
ferred  tea  things  and  Mrs.  Brent  with  the  last 
thing  Stuyvesant  was  thinking  to  see  —  Maid 
Marion,  all  smiles,  congratulation,  and  cool  or 
gandie. 

Ten  minutes'  time  in  which  to  compose  herself 
gives  a  girl  far  too  great  an  advantage  under  such 
circumstances. 


3i4  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

"  I — I'm  glad  to  see  you,"  said  Stuyvesant  help 
lessly.  "  I  thought  you  were  wearing  yourself  out 
at  nursing." 

"  Oh,  it  agrees  with  me,"  responded  Maidie 
blithely. 

"  I  suppose  it  must.     You  certainly  look  so." 

" Merci  dn  compliment,  Monsieur"  smiled  Miss 
Ray,  with  sparkling  eyes  and  the  prettiest  of 
courtesies.  She  certainly  did  look  remarkably 
well. 

It  was  time  for  Stuyvesant  to  be  seated  again, 
but  he  hovered  there  about  that  tea-table,  for  Mrs. 
Brent  made  the  totally  unnecessary  announcement 
that  she  would  go  in  search  of  the  spoons. 

"  You  had  no  time — I  suppose — to  look  in  on 
anybody  but  your  assigned  vict — patients,  I  mean," 
hazarded  Stuyvesant,  weakening  his  tentative  by 
palpable  display  of  sense  of  injury. 

"  Well,  you  were  usually  asleep  when  I  cal — 
inquired,  I  mean.  One  or  two  lumps,  Mr.  Stuy 
vesant  ?"  And  the  dainty  little  white  hand  hov 
ered  over  the  sugar-bowl. 

"  You  usually  chose  such  times,  I  fancy.  One 
lump,  thanks."  There  was  another,  not  of  sugar, 
in  his  throat  and  he  knew  it,  and  his  fine  blue  eyes 
and  thin,  sad  face  were  pathetic  enough  to  move 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  315 

any  woman's  heart  had  not  Miss  Ray  been  so  con 
cerned  about  the  tea. 

"  You  would  have  been  able  to  return  to  duty 
days  ago,"  said  she,  tendering  the  steaming  cup 
and  obviously  ignoring  his  remark,  "had  you  come 
right  to  hospital  as  Dr.  Shiels  directed,  instead  of 
scampering  out  to  the  front  again.  You  thought 
more  of  the  brevet,  of  course,  than  the  gash.  What 
a  mercy  it  glanced  on  the  rib !  Only  —  such 
wounds  are  ever  so  much  harder  to  stanch  and 
dress." 

"  You — knew  about  it,  then  ?"  he  asked  with 
reviving  hope. 

*'  Of  course.  We  all  knew,"  responded  Miss 
Ray,  well  aware  of  the  fact  that  he  would  have 
been  unaccountably  and  infinitely  happier  had  it 
been  she  alone.  "That  is  our  profession.  But 
about  the  brevet.  Surely  you  ought  to  be  pleased. 
Captain  in  your  first  engagement!" 

"  Oh,  it's  only  a  recommendation,"  he  answered, 
"  and  may  be  as  far  away  as — any  other  engage 
ment — of  mine,  that  is."  And  in  saying  it  poor 
Stuyvesant  realized  it  was  an  asinine  thing.  So, 
alack,  did  she !  An  instant  agone  she  was  biting 
her  pretty  red  lips  for  letting  the  word  escape  her, 
but  his  fatuity  gave  her  all  the  advantage  in  spite 


3i6  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

of  herself.  It  was  the  play  to  see  nothing  that 
called  for  reply  in  his  allusion.  So  there  was 
none. 

A  carriage  was  coming  up  the  Luneta  full  tilt,  and 
though  still  six  hundred  yards  away,  she  saw  and 
knew  it  to  be  Stuyvesant's  returning.  But  he  saw 
nothing  beyond  her  glowing  face.  Mrs.  Brent 
began  to  sing  in  the  salon,  a  symptom  so  unusual 
that  it  could  only  mean  that  she  contemplated 
coming  back  and  was  giving  warning.  Time  was 
priceless,  yet  here  he  stood  trembling,  irresolute. 
Would  nothing  help  him  ? 

"  You  speak  of  my — engagement,"  he  blun 
dered  blindly  on.  "  I  wish  you'd  tell  me — about 
yours." 

"  Mine?  Oh, — with  the  Red  Cross,  you  mean?" 
And  shame  be  to  you,  Maidie  Ray,  you  knew — 
you  well  knew — he  didn't." 

"I  mean — to  Mr.  Foster.  Mrs.  Brent  has  just 
told  me " 

"  Mrs.  Brent !"  interposes  Miss  Ray  in  a  flutter 
of  amaze.  That  carriage  is  coming  nearer  every 
instant,  driving  like  mad,  Brent  on  the  back  seat 
and  a  whip-lashing  demon  on  the  box.  There  will 
be  no  time  for  love-tales  once  that  burly  warrior 
returns  to  his  own.  Yet  she  is  fencing,  parrying, 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  317 

holding  him  at  bay,  for  his  heart  is  bubbling  over 
with  the  torrent  of  its  love  and  yearning  and 
pleading. 

What  are  bullet-wounds  and  brevets  to  this  one 
supreme,  sublime  encounter  ?  His  heart  was  high, 
his  voice  rang  clear  and  exultant,  his  eyes  flashed 
joy  and  fire  and  defiance  in  the  face  of  a  thousand 
deaths  two  weeks  ago.  But  here  in  the  presence 
of  a  slender  girl  he  can  do  naught  but  falter  and 
stammer  and  tremble. 

Crack,  crack,  spatter,  clatter,  and  crash  comes 
the  little  carriage  and  team  whirling  into  the  San 
Luis.  He  hears  it  now.  He  knows  what  it  means 
to  him — Brent  back  and  the  pent-up  words  still 
unspoken !  It  nerves  him  to  the  test,  it  spurs  him 
to  the  leap,  it  drives  the  blood  bounding  through 
his  veins,  it  sends  him  darting  round  the  table  to 
her  side,  penning  her,  as  it  were,  between  him  and 
the  big  bamboo  chair.  And  now  her  heart,  too,  is 
all  in  a  flutter,  for  the  outer  works  were  carried  in 
his  impetuous  dash,  the  assailant  is  at  the  very 
citadel. 

"Marion!"  he  cried,  "tell  me,  was  there — tell 
me,  there  was  no  engagement !  Tell  me  there  is  a 
little  hope  for  me !  Oh,  you  are  blind  if  you  do 
not  see,  if  you  have  not  seen  all  along,  that  I've 


3i8  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

loved  you  ever  since  the  first  day  I  ever  saw  you. 
Tell  me — quick  !" 

Too  late.  Up  comes  Brent  on  the  run,  and 
Marion  springs  past  the  would-be  detaining  arm. 
"  Where's  Mrs.  B.  ?"  pants  the  warrior.  "  Hullo, 
Stuyvie!  I  was  afraid  you'd  got  the  news  and 
gone  out  in  a  cab.  M'ria,  I  want  my  belt  and 
pistol !" 

"  Where  you  going  ?"  bursts  in  the  lady  of  the 
house — the  spoons  forgotten. 

"  Out  to  San  Pedro  !  It's  only  three  miles.  Our 
fellows  are  going  to  drive  'em  out  of  Guadaloupe 
woods.  Ready,  Sty  ?  Of  course  you  want  to  see 
it.  Drive'll  do  you  good,  too.  Come  on." 

"  Indeed,  you  don't  stir  a  step,  Colonel  Brent ! — 
not  a  step !  What  business  have  you  going  into 
action  ?  You  did  enough  fighting  forty  years  ago." 
Brent,  deaf  to  her  expostulation,  is  rushing  to  the 
steps,  buckling  his  belt  on  the  run,  but  "  M'ria" 
grabs  the  slack  of  the  Khaki  coat  and  holds  him. 
Stuyvesant  springs  for  his  hat.  It  has  vanished. 
Marion,  her  hands  behind  her,  her  lips  parted,  her 
heart  pounding  hard,  has  darted  to  the  broad  door 
to  the  salon,  and  there,  leaning  against  the  framing, 
she  confronts  him. 

At   the    rear   of  the   salon    Thisbe    has    grap- 


A   STORY   OF   MANILA  319 

pled  Pyramus  and  is  being  pulled  to  the  head 
of  the  stairs;  at  the  head,  Beatrice,  with  un 
daunted  front,  concealing  a  sinking  heart,  defies 
Benedick. 

"  My  hat,  please,"  he  demands,  his  eyes  lighting 
with  hope  and  promise  of  victory. 

"  You  have  no  right,"  she  begins.  "  You  are 
still  a  patient."  But  now,  with  bowed  head,  she  is 
struggling,  for  he  has  come  close  to  her,  so  close 
that  his  heart  and  hers  might  almost  meet  in  their 
wild  leaping,  so  close  that  in  audacious  search  for 
the  missing  headgear  his  hands  are  reaching  down 
behind  the  shrinking,  slender  little  form,  and  his 
long,  sinewy  arms  almost  encircling  her.  The  war 
of  words  at  the  back  stairs  "  now  trebly  thundering 
swelled  the  gale,"  but  it  is  not  heard  here  at  the 
front. 

His  hands  have  grasped  her  wrists  now.  His 
blond  head  is  bowed  down  over  hers,  so  that  his 
lips  hover  close  to  the  part  of  the  dusky  hair. 
"  My  hat,  Maidie,"  he  cries,  "  or  I'll— I'll  take  what 
I  want !"  Both  hands  tugging  terrifically  at  those 
slender  wrists  now,  and  yet  not  gaining  an  inch. 
"  Do  you  hear  ?— I'll— I'll  take " 

"  You  sha'n't !"  gasps  Miss  Ray,  promptly  bury 
ing  her  glowing  face  in  the  breast  of  that  happy 


320  RAY'S   DAUGHTER 

Khaki,  and  thereby  tacitly  admitting  that  she 
knows  just  what  he  wants  so  much  more  than 
that  hat. 

And  then  the  long,  white  hands  release  their 
hold  of  the  slim,  white  wrists ;  the  muscular  arms 
twine  tight  about  her,  almost  lifting  her  from 
her  feet;  the  bonny  brown  head  bows  lower 
still,  his  mustache  brushing  the  soft,  damask-rose- 
like  cheek.  "  I  must  go,  Maidie, — darling !"  he 
whispers,  "without  the  hat  if  need  be,  but  not 
without — this — and  this — and  this — and  this,"  and 
the  last  one  lingers  long  just  at  the  corner  of  the 
warm,  winsome,  rosy  lips.  She  could  not  prevent 
it — perhaps  she  did  not  try. 


THE    END. 


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